Second Chances Incorporated
by Quiet2885
Summary: Life can be painful and cruel and unfair, sometimes to the point where death seems like the only option. Until now. Let Second Chances Incorporated give you a second chance. Modern AU. Light sci-fi. Second Chances Incorporated. If only it were really that simple…Complete except for possible epilogue.
1. Chapter 1 (Prologue)

**So here I am again with a new piece. Not sure how long it will be but probably a decent length. It's a sci-fi-light modern AU. This story does feature a main female OC as well as supporting cast OCs, all very necessary for the plot, but…I think you all know me well enough by now to know my shipping preferences. Anyway, I hope you find the dynamics of all the relationships interesting and original. As for: How dark is this? Probably on par with my other long stories. Dark but not horror or over the top. Redemptive, definitely. Hope you enjoy the prologue and first chapter.**

 _Disclaimer: I do not own the characters of_ _The Phantom of the Opera_ _. Everything belongs to Gaston Leroux._ _Phantom_ _is owned by Susan Kay._

"I hope we're making the right decision."

Gabby Giry leaned across the table and squeezed his shoulder. There was nothing but sympathy in her green eyes, no sign of deceit or manipulation. That made him feel a little better. "Can you think of a better decision, Nadir?" she asked.

"No." He had already thought about this for many sleepless nights. He would sit in the tattered armchair in the middle of his one bedroom apartment while reruns of _Seinfeld_ played in the background. He would debate the ethics in his head, a glass of cold milk in his hand. The milk would grow warm, but he would have no other answers. "No. The choices are this, prison, or death. That's always been clear."

"Exactly," she replied. "This is a wonderful opportunity. For Erik, most of all. There's nothing better than this for that poor, damaged man."

"Let's be honest. He's created most of his own problems," Nadir gently protested. "If he were nothing but a victim, this would be the easiest decision in the world. But you know what they'll say. They'll say he doesn't deserve this chance."

"Who's they?"

"I don't know." Nadir waved his hand to the side. "Tough on crime types. Justice over mercy types. I can just see the commentary all over the Internet. Psychotic murderer allowed to go free."

"Well, they won't find out, right?"

"Right," Nadir replied, glancing to the side. With more conviction, he again said, "Right. Of course not."

Gabby nodded. "Where is he?"

"A very secure holding cell. This was his decision, too. He had to be willing for it to work. But there was always the chance that he might change his mind and run away. I don't think he will, though. He practically turned himself in."

"Do you know why?"

"He says he heard a voice," said Nadir. "And that he couldn't stay here after that."

"What?" Gabby gave a confused laugh. "Like what sort of voice? The voice of God?"

"Something like that. The voice of an angel. That's what he said." Nadir rubbed his eyes. "Ugh. He was probably on hallucinogens." He shook his head as a pain gripped his heart. "I hope this works, Gabby. What if he's too…I don't know. What if he's too far gone? Are you sure he's the right candidate?"

She leaned over and hugged him. She smelled of cheap perfume but felt warm. "He's not too far gone. And this will work. I feel it in my heart. This is Erik's second chance." She drew back and stood, looking more her down-to-business self. "We should start getting him ready soon. We'll ease him into it, make him as comfortable as possible. Erik is a patient here. Not a criminal or a prisoner."

With a deep intake of breath, Nadir nodded and also stood. The decision was made, and there was no going back now.

It was a good decision. It was most definitely the right decision.

He just wished he understood why he felt so damned sad.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Thank you all for the first reviews! This is a story where all is slowly revealed, so things will be a little confusing at first. I welcome your guesses after this chapter.**

From: SCI

To: ALL_RESIDENTS_Section_1

Subject: New Resident

 _Good morning,_

 _You may soon notice a new resident named Erik. He is like you but with one important difference. He does not remember the true Before and is not aware of his Connection. This is intentional and an important component of his wellbeing. Erik's case is quite unique and very important for science, medicine, and humanity. Please do not draw his attention to the Connection as it will only create pain and confusion. Otherwise, please continue as usual and make Erik as comfortable as possible. It will take him some time to adjust. Draw his attention to the present, and SCI will take care of the rest. You will find him to be quite talented and intelligent. Befriend him and be kind :)_

 _Thank you so very much,_

 _SCI_

* * *

"Save the 6th Street Theater! It's been here for seventy years! Save it! Don't let this beautiful piece of architecture be lost forever! All for a parking garage!" Christine thrust out flyers toward pedestrians covered in hats and scarves. She tried to add some volume to her normally quiet voice. It sounded shrill in her ears. "Please help me save the theater!"

Everyone ignored her.

Temperatures were five degrees below freezing. Everyone was too cold and distracted to pay any attention. She would have been better off doing this in April, but it would be too late by then. Her cheeks and lips were numb.

"Save the theater!" she called to a man with glasses and a briefcase.

He harrumphed and moved faster. "Not interested in what you're selling."

"I'm not selling anything! I just want you to sign my petition." He was already far down the sidewalk. "Ugh," she muttered. This was hopeless. Maybe she could go inside a mall. Security would probably kick her out, but it was worth a shot.

Who was she kidding? This wasn't going to happen. Her sanctuary for the last three years would soon be gone forever, reduced to a pile of dusty rubble. All because a new outdoor shopping center had opened two blocks away, and they wanted more parking. Whoever owned it had more money and influence than she ever would.

She had already been standing out there for two hours. Gathering up her flyers into gloved hands, Christine turned to leave. She ran into someone. "Oof!" they exclaimed in unison.

"I'm sorry," she said, looking up and into the face of a guy her own age. A very attractive guy. "I didn't see you."

He laughed. "I'm sorry, too. I wanted to see what you were doing."

"Really?" His midnight blue jacket was expensive, probably from one of those athletic stores where rich people bought all their ski equipment. She felt a little embarrassed. Luckily, her face was red from the cold, so he couldn't see her blushing. "Well, um. I'm-I'm trying to save this theater. I've been working there for several years, mostly administrative stuff, but I've gotten a few small roles. I love this place. It's like my other home. They're tearing it down to build more parking. Everyone else has pretty much given up on it. But here I am. One last stand, I guess." She shrugged and felt small.

He looked down at her flyer and studied it. "That's too bad. They're tearing a lot of the old stuff down, huh?"

"Yeah. It's terrible. There won't be any history left soon."

"I know." He scratched his nose. "I don't think I've ever been here. What do they have?"

"Everything. Um. Musicals. Ballet. Shakespeare." She grinned as she remembered a way to make it more interesting. "It's spooky, too. Or it used to be. A year ago, there were rumors that it was haunted. I mean, I never saw or heard anything, but other people did." Apparently, someone had also died there, but she didn't include that in the story. "It's such a neat place. I'd give anything to save it."

"Hm." He flipped the flyer over. There was nothing on the back, so he looked up. He smiled. His cheeks were also red from the cold. His eyes were bright blue. "What's your name?"

"Christine."

"Tell you what, Christine. I might be able to help. How long do we have?"

"About two months before they start tearing it down."

"Okay. So how about this Saturday, you give me a tour of this place. Any time of day. Then we'll see what we can do."

She hesitated. "You think you could really help?"

He scratched the back of his head. His stocking hat felt off and into the snow. He quickly scooped to pick it up. "Yeah, I do. I'm…I know…Well, that's not important. Yeah, I think I could help."

"Okay. What's your name?"

"Raoul."

"Raoul. Nice to meet you."

"Great to meet you, too, Christine."

She gave him her cell number and watched him walk off. Going into a half empty building with a stranger was probably not the safest thing to do, but she'd make sure it was daylight and that other people were nearby. Could he really help?

It was getting windier, colder, and everyone was taking shelter. It was time to go home. Christine trudged four blocks through the snow to the bus stop. Only one homeless man was passed out on the bench, newspapers covering him. She stood at a distance from him, arms folded against her chest.

Raoul probably wouldn't even call. Maybe he was one of those guys who liked to collect phone numbers for an ego boost.

The bus smelled of exhaust, but at least it was warmer inside. She took a seat at the far back and hoped no one would bother her. Her legs ached from standing so long. She settled into the leather seat and closed her eyes, almost wishing the ride would last forever.

She didn't like being home. That was why she had offered to come out even on a miserable day. She had been trying to save up for a security deposit on a cute loft, but community college and living expenses sapped most of her earnings. At twenty-one, she was stuck living with her mother.

Her mother had gone kind of crazy after her father died two years ago. Christine had been very sad, nearly depressed, but she had kept her sanity.

And hygiene.

The bus stop was three blocks from the apartment, and Christine walked slowly to her final destination. The evidence of her mother's deterioration greeted her at the front door. Stacks of newspapers and magazines were in the entryway, some dated back to three years ago. Empty plastic bottles and aluminum cans spilled out from the living room. A grey tabby cat hissed at her and ran by. At least her mother wasn't hoarding animals. There were only two cats in the house, neither of which liked Christine very much.

Shaking her head, she made her way through the mess. A can crunched beneath her rubber boot.

"Is that you?" Denise called from the bedroom. The television played, probably a sitcom rerun.

Christine froze. "Yeah."

"Did you eat?"

"Yeah," Christine lied. She just wanted to take off her wet clothes and sleep.

"Did you get me anything?"

"No…"

There was no response after that. Her mother was probably pouting. She was like a child these days.

Christine went into her room. It had been the last clean place, but her mother had started storing and stacking boxes there. Her father's things.

After changing into some long-sleeved pajamas, she went online and checked her bank account. $238.45. Enough to survive. Not enough for her own place.

She turned on some soft rock, enough to drown out the sound of the television, and curled up on the bed. The wind whistled outside. Occasionally, she felt a cold draft of air. She got up once that evening to grab a handful of potato chips and some string cheese.

It was morning before she knew it. Christine was awoken by the sound of her phone buzzing. With blurry vision, she glanced at the newest text message.

 _Hey! It's Raoul. Can I meet you Saturday at 10?_

She couldn't believe it. She blinked several times to make sure it wasn't a dream. Should she wait an hour to respond so she wouldn't look desperate? Christine waited five minutes. _Yeah! Sounds great. See you there!_

When she got up, she found her mom sitting on a cloth folding chair in the living room. The mess surrounded her. Denise glanced up. Her half blonde, half grey hair lay in tangles over her shoulders.

"Hi, Mom."

"Morning," she murmured.

Christine asked the same question she did every day. "Want me to clean up anything for you?"

Denise waved her away. "No. I'll take care of it. Don't touch anything. You always lose my stuff."

"All right." She knew better than to argue.

"Could I have a twenty?" Denise asked. "I want to buy some lottery tickets. Powerball is up to five hundred million."

"Yeah." Christine slowly opened up her billfold and handed a crumpled twenty to her mother.

"Thank you, sweetheart. Don't know what I'd do without you."

Christine shook her head. Her mother sat in this mess all day living in a dream world. Dreams of her husband magically coming back to life. Dreams of winning the lottery. Dreams of anywhere but here.

Christine tried to cling to reality. Her classes were real and would hopefully lead to a job. The theater was real, at least for another of couple of months. That text from Raoul was real. Who was he, and why did he think he could help _? Please don't be a creepy guy._

There had to be hope left. There had to be a reason to keep going.

Still, reality sucked sometimes.

* * *

It was a piano bar, but no one ever played the piano. The shiny instrument sat to the side of the room, in a corner, untouched and unnoticed.

"Does anyone play?" Corey finally asked one night, glancing at it from his stool.

"Nope," said Ken. "I'm not musical at all. I can't even whistle."

"I played the flute in high school," said Leigh. "Don't think that translates to the piano."

"I took one year of lessons," said Alice. "I think I could get through _Twinkle Twinkle Little Star_."

"Then you beat all of us," stated Ken with a grin. "Now you have to play."

"I'm not playing that in front of everyone," Alice replied. There were at least ten other customers.

"I dare you," said Ken. "Play the song." He could be so obnoxious, especially after a couple drinks.

"No."

"I'll pay for your drink," he replied.

"How about for a month you pay for my drinks?" she asked.

"Deal."

"Seriously?" Alice rolled her eyes. "Okay. Fine. I'm holding you to it. You'll regret this when you're sober." With a sigh, she hopped off her stool and walked over to the piano. She badly tapped out the children's song. When she looked up, half the bar was grinning at her. The smiles were good-natured, though. No one else had ever played that piano. Maybe they liked the sound of it, even if it was bad. There were few artists and musicians around these parts.

Ken reluctantly payed for her drinks that month. And, yes, he regretted the bargain once his hangover was gone.

That was the only time anyone ever played the piano.

Until nearly a year later.

Corey, Ken, Leigh, and Alice met at their usual spot, sipping beers and cocktails and discussing their work or whatever was going on with life. But mostly work. Experiments and papers and spreadsheets and statistics.

Suddenly, the sound rang into the air, a cascade of notes. Everyone sharply glanced up, data points and t-tests forgotten.

The guy looked like he was twenty, twenty-one. Dark hair. Dark eyes with a flicker of yellow. Or maybe that was just the dim light reflecting off his irises. He was playing quickly, his hands a blur over the keys, and it was the most beautiful sound in the world. They were stunned, hypnotized for the next ten minutes. A waterfall of wonderful music that broke into their carefully structured lives.

Then it ended. The whole room was silent. The guy stood and glanced up at the room. He visibly swallowed and took a quick step in the direction of the door. Before he could leave, everyone loudly applauded. Someone whistled. He froze for a second but then moved toward the door again.

Ken was the first to speak to him. "Hey! Come over here!" The guy looked up and hesitated. "Yeah, you. Come over here." After another pause, the guy slowly obeyed. He looked between them. "Have a seat. I'll buy you a drink. Are you old enough? It doesn't matter. What's your name?"

"You're going to give him a seizure," said Alice.

It took a moment for him to reply. There was a spark of something in his eyes. Fear? Confusion? Disorientation? "What's your name?" Ken repeated.

"Erik." It was nearly a whisper.

They all flinched and exchanged long glances. Alice knew they must also be remembering that message they had received months ago. She had almost forgotten about it. _Please do not draw his attention to the Connection as it will only create pain and confusion._

"How long have you been here?" Corey asked, his words slow and carefully chosen.

"I don't know," Erik said with a shrug. "I think I moved here…six months ago?" He blinked twice.

"It's nice to meet you, Erik," said Alice. "You play really, really well." That was an understatement.

"Thank you." He glanced back toward the door. "But I need to leave."

"Why?" asked Ken. "Hang out for a while."

"No." Erik stepped backwards. "I'm going." He glanced around. "It's crowded here," he mumbled. Erik turned and literally ran out the door. It shut behind him. The rest of the bar returned to their conversations.

"Weird kid," Leigh said.

"I like him," said Ken. "He adds a little color to this place."

"He wears all black," Leigh replied.

"You know what I mean."

And they all did know.

Alice saw him a few more times over the next months, often at the piano bar. He would always play when he came in. Everyone looked forward to it. People would come every night just for a chance to hear him. They were starved for live music, especially music like that.

Alice would sometimes see him walking by himself on the sidewalk, his eyes on the ground. He wore pants and long sleeves even when it was sunny and seventy-five degrees outside, which it was a lot of the time. He kept to himself unless they waved him over to their table. He was quiet, only giving one word answers to their carefully asked questions.

"He seems older," said Alice one evening, after Erik had just left. They had managed to pull a few more details out of him. He also worked a little at the University, completing research at the psychiatry and neuroscience departments. But most of his time was spent on his music.

"What do you mean?" asked Corey. "He looks younger than us. He can't be more than twenty-three."

"No," Alice said. "He doesn't literally look older. But something about the way he acts. And his face…"

"What about it?" asked Leigh. "I think he's kind of cute. Like a lost puppy."

"I don't know. Never mind." Alice had wanted to say that his face looked off, maybe not completely real, sort of like a doll's face. But that comment would have been confusing to them.

Because nothing was completely real here.


	3. Chapter 3

**So happy for the positive response on this. I think this chapter will give you more clues as to what's going on. Read and Review!**

Christine stared at her closet for at least fifteen minutes before her meeting with Raoul. When her dad had been alive and working as an electrician, she had been able to afford a couple shopping trips a year. Now she was lucky to get one. She finally chose a green and crimson striped sweater that a wealthier aunt had bought her for Christmas. Her father's sister, Aunt Jackie, would occasionally call and check in on them. Christine always told her that things were fine.

They weren't fine, but it wasn't an emergency. It wasn't like her mother had tried to burn the house down.

Yet.

She got out of the apartment with a quick 'goodbye' before Denise could make any requests of her. Denise seemed almost afraid to go outside these days. She only felt safe squished between the fortresses of garbage.

It was crisp and sunny outside, a perfect day for a winter stroll. Christine still kept an eye on her surroundings and walked at a fast pace. The streets and sidewalks required maintenance, and the graffiti needed to be cleaned off the abandoned brick buildings. The area had begun to feel a little safer, fewer thefts and murders reported on the news, fewer police sirens wailing at one in the morning. Christine wasn't sure if that was because of the weather or the new governor's tough-on-crime agenda.

She climbed on the bus and grabbed a seat in the middle, taking the familiar thirty minute ride through the city to the theater. Past the Chinese restaurant where her father had always gotten takeout. Their _lo mein_ was the best in the state. At least Christine thought so. Past some upper middle class Victorian style homes, colored in light blues and yellows. She would love to see inside them.

Onto Ocean Street. Shore Street. Sea Shell Street. Someone obviously missed the beach.

Onto long Charles Street, which contained many empty lots.

There was an abandoned high school football stadium at the end of that street. Homeless people would camp out in a parking lot that was now covered with weeds. Skateboarders would set up ramps and practice their tricks. A memorial plaque sat beneath a bare-branched tree. No one put out flowers anymore. The incident had happened about eight years ago and was more or less forgotten, and Christine only spared a thought for it because she had to pass the stadium several times a week.

Christine looked down at her purse as her stomach turned nervously. She hoped Raoul would show up and that this wasn't some kind of prank where boys threw eggs at her. As the bus pulled up to the stop with a mechanical squeal, she stared fondly at the theater. Hard to believe that, barring a miracle, it would be gone in mere months. Then where would she go?

To her surprise, Raoul was there before she was, his hands tucked into his pockets.

"Hey!" he exclaimed with an adorable grin. He waved at her with a gloved hand.

She glanced down at her old coat. It didn't look too bad. Christine forced a cheery smile. "Hi! Thanks so much for coming."

"Sure! How are you?" he asked.

"Okay. How about yourself?"

"Good." They turned and looked up at the building together. "So this is it."

"Yep," she said. "I know it doesn't look like much from the outside. I can give you a quick tour."

"Sounds good."

A gust of warmer air hit them as she opened the tall, heavy doors. She showed him the front lobby with polished wood walls and a red carpet with swirling gold decorations. An elderly woman was working in the back office, maybe one of the bookkeepers, so they weren't completely alone. Bright ceiling lights and a few smaller chandeliers cast a golden glow over the ceiling. There were show advertisements from all the decades hung on the walls - ballets, plays, and operas. She took him into the auditorium to see the stage with a bright red curtain and multilevel seating of the same color.

After making sure no one was watching, she showed him some of the behind the scenes rooms. Costumes hung on multiple racks, and old props sat to the side. Raoul picked up a fake rotary phone and held the receiver up to his ear. "No dial tone," he said with fake disappointment.

"I'm sorry. I think there's a telegraph machine somewhere in here. Maybe that'll work."

He picked up a black Napoleon hat and put it on. "How do I look?"

"Dashing," she wryly replied. Christine picked up a purple feather boa and wrapped it around her neck. She put a hand on her hip and struck a pose. "How about me?"

"Beautiful."

He didn't sound sarcastic in the slightest. She swallowed nervously and looked away. "Well. There's a basement and some upstairs rooms. But that's just storage. So…yup. This is it."

"This place is pretty cool. It's like being in the past. Kind of haunting. I can see why you like it."

"It's been like a second home," she admitted.

"You don't think you'd like a brand new one?"

She knew he didn't mean the question to be hurtful. "Not really."

"All right." He was staring off to the side.

"What are you thinking?"

"About how to fix this."

Christine gave a short, disheartened laugh. "I don't really think it can be fixed." He didn't reply. His brow was furrowed. "So, anyway, thanks for coming."

"Sure. And I'll look into this."

"Thanks." She doubted anything could be done. "Are you in school?"

"Yeah but not here. I'm taking a break this semester."

"Where do you go?"

He glanced down and, in a quieter voice, replied, "Dartmouth."

"Oh my gosh! You must be really smart."

"Um. Well, I'm not stupid. I mean, my grades were good. But my dad went there. And his dad. So yeah."

"What's your major?"

"Finance."

"Oh." She didn't even know what to ask. "So investing?"

"Yeah, pretty much. Are you in school?" he asked, seeming to want to get away from himself.

"Community college. I'm hoping to transfer, though, if I can afford it. I want to double major in vocal performance and psychology. So I have big plans to be famous, but I'll go into counseling if it doesn't work out. Heh."

"Sounds awesome. It's good to have dreams and be practical."

"What's your dream?" she asked.

He hesitated. "I'm not sure yet. So I guess my dream is to find a dream."

"You have time to figure it out." She smiled, and he smiled back. Feeling more comfortable, Christine decided to take him out a back way. There were some old gargoyle statues from the days when that exit had faced a street instead of an alley. She also decided to tell Raoul a weird story about what she had seen there one night. It was still her goal to make this place as interesting as possible.

As they approached the doors, one of the managers, Jacob, was just walking inside. "Hello, Christine. What are you up to?" His beard hid the lower half of his face, but his eyes crinkled as he smiled.

"Just giving my friend a tour," she admitted.

Jacob glanced at Raoul and started. "Nice job," he quickly mouthed at her. Before she could wonder what he was talking about, Jacob turned toward Raoul. "Thank you so much for coming out here, Sir. It means a lot. We really hope we can save this place. Anything you or your dad can do would be great."

Raoul turned a little red. "Oh, it's nothing. I'm happy to help."

"Well, I hope you can shake things up at the top. Thank you." Jacob walked on by and started to whistle.

Raoul took a step toward the doors, but Christine stood firmly in place. "Who are you?" she asked. He didn't respond, his back toward her. "Who are you? What's your last name?"

Raoul sighed and slowly faced her. "Chagny."

Christine blinked. "Chagny," she repeated with disbelief.

"Yeah."

"You're the governor's son?"

"One of them. Yeah."

"Oh my God." She rubbed a hand over her face. "I mean, I knew you were…Um. I knew you had more money than I did. I didn't know you were that, well, I guess I should watch more local news."

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you. There are some security issues. My dad even wants me to get a bodyguard, but I hate the idea of someone following me around all day. It's also kind of embarrassing to tell people, especially when they aren't crazy about him."

She had voted against Robert Chagny. Despite having some good ideas, the man had seemed very harsh in his speeches. Still, she wasn't going to get into a conversation about politics now. "Why are you helping me?"

Raoul shrugged. "You looked so determined that day. Out in the cold. Fighting for what you love. And my mother also loved the theater."

"She passed away?" Christine vaguely remembered a story about that.

"Yeah. She would have liked this place."

"This place was my sanctuary after my dad died," she murmured. "Can you really help?"

"This is probably a city issue. Not a state one. But my dad knows the mayor. Maybe he can help. I can't promise, but I can try."

"Well," she said with a swallow. "If you can't fix it, then no one can." They were quiet as they walked outside together. She didn't tell her story about the cop cars and the sad man. Maybe another time if things felt less solemn. If there were another time. There probably wouldn't be.

Raoul's father wasn't just governor. He was one of those politicians whom everyone knew might run for president someday. Raoul's brother, Phillip, had moved to another state and been elected into the House of Representatives. The Chagnys were kind of American royalty.

They walked out of the shadows of the buildings and into the winter daylight. "You want a ride home?" he asked.

Christine hesitated. She knew who he was now. He seemed genuinely decent. But she didn't know him that well yet, and she didn't want to feel like a burden. "That's okay. I'll take the bus. Maybe we can meet up again?"

"Sure." He looked a little disappointed but understanding. "I'll let you know when I make some progress. I'll corner my dad. I got good grades last semester, so I'm in good standing with him." There was that grin again.

"Thank you. So much." They waved at each other, and she watched him walk away.

Christine was in a better mood when she got home. Maybe Raoul could do something about her beloved theater. She barely noticed the mess or her mother's grumbling.

But she did notice the letter on the coffee table, half covered by a pile of soda cans. How had she missed it earlier?

Oh, yeah. The chaos that blanketed the entire apartment.

She picked it up and felt her good mood evaporate. The typed letter threatened to evict them if they didn't clean up the unit within ten days. Someone must have seen inside, maybe the maintenance guy when he inspected their air filters.

Christine checked the date on the letter and then the date on a wall calendar. They had two days left to make this place look habitable again.

She took one look at the mess and knew that wasn't going to happen.

* * *

Tired of sitting inside that Saturday, Alice decided to take her work to a park bench. Maybe that had been a mistake. It was seventy-seven degrees and sunny. Her laptop was already growing too warm on top of her bare legs, and she kept getting distracted. First by a mother duck with her ducklings. Then by some squirrels battling over an acorn.

As she attempted to focus on a graph, something, or someone, else popped into the corner of her vision. A dark shape. She glanced up.

Erik. Walking down one of the dirt paths and keeping to the shadows of the trees. His gaze was fixed on the ground, and he still had that slightly confused looking on his face.

His face. It was difficult to put into words what was off about it. Everyone looked a little better here; that was part of the package. But Erik's face seemed even more artificial. As though someone had put extra time into the design, trying to perfect it.

He came closer and closer. Alice glanced between him and her laptop. Oh, hell. Nothing was getting done today anyway, and her eyes were tired. She decided to be friendly. Frankly, she was a little curious about him. They all were. Maybe he would open up more with a one-on-one conversation.

"Erik!" She waved. "Hey!" He glanced up and stared at her, obviously noticing her for the first time. "Hey! Remember? Alice."

"Yes," he began in a soft voice. "I remember you. The…bar."

"Yeah. The piano bar. How are you?"

"Fine." He blinked as though just waking up. "And yourself?"

"Good. Trying to get work done. Failing miserably but what else is new, right? What are you up to?"

"Walking."

"Awesome." She had to force herself not to laugh. He was strange but in a cute way. "So has anyone shown you around?"

"No. Only around the university. My mentor did."

"Who's your mentor?" Alice asked.

"Mrs. Ivey."

"Oh. I heard we got a new faculty member, but I haven't met her yet. Anyway, how about if I give you a quick tour?" Erik didn't respond, but he didn't continue walking. Alice closed her laptop and stood. He took one step backward as she approached but then stayed in place. "So, first, what do you like to eat?"

"I don't know."

"What? Seriously. What do you like? Italian? American? Burgers? Asian?"

"I think…I think I liked…I like Shawarma." Erik's eyes lit up a little as he said this, as though he was relieved to find an answer. Despite the artificiality of his face, there was something very real about his eyes.

"Hm. We do have a Greek restaurant. So that should be close, right?" He didn't respond. "I think, anyway. Middle Eastern food would be sort of similar?"

"Yes. Middle Eastern." Erik looked down. "I know that. I knew someone who was Middle Eastern."

"Oh." That had segued quickly.

"I thought I did." He pressed his palm against his forehead. "I don't remember who it was now. That's strange, isn't it? I've felt off lately. Maybe I need more sleep. Maybe I learned about the Middle East in high school." He seemed to be thinking very hard and then said, more to himself than to her, "I went to Northview High School in Vermont. My mother was a teacher there."

"That's cool. What'd she teach?"

"Mathematics. She has been there for ten years and is hoping to retire soon. She was a good teacher. And my father…" He tapered off, squinting.

"What about your father?"

"My father was a doctor. A general practitioner. We lived in a three-story brick house in the suburbs. It had a swimming pool and two balconies. I miss it."

Erik spoke mechanically and with little emotion. She was going to ask more questions about his past.

Then she remembered. If Erik had no memory of his Before, that meant SCI had given him artificial memories. SCI had said that they would 'take care of the rest.' Of course that would make sense. They couldn't leave his mind empty of any past, so SCI had created a new one.

Alice was kind of disturbed. Had they really even made up parents for him? Or could that part be real? "It sounds like you had a good time back home," she said, unsure if she should keep prying.

He continued, "Yes. I was a member of the debate team. My mother came to watch many of my debates. She was always there. My father came, too, if he didn't have to work."

"Great," she said, keeping her voice steady. "Do you miss them?"

"Who?"

"Your parents…"

"Oh! Sometimes. Yes. Of course I do." He stopped walking and stared at her. "Do you miss yours? Assuming that they live far away?"

"They are far away, and I do miss them." She tucked a dark strand of hair behind her ear. "A lot." Speaking of that, she should probably check on when her next _wake up_ would be. Like most of the people in this town, she both looked forward to it and dreaded it.

Alice showed him the street where most of the restaurants were arranged. Bob's Pizza. Kate's Burgers. The Athens Greek Café. Her favorite coffee house. She showed him the bowling alley and the skating rink in case he enjoyed good old-fashioned G-rated entertainment. The movie theater. It usually had the latest films. Erik didn't seem very interested in movies. He kept looking at the employee behind the glass who sold tickets.

"He seems very stiff," Erik finally said. He started to walk backwards so that he could continue to watch.

"Huh?" Alice turned all the way around.

"That ticket employee. Look at him. He's like the bartender at the piano bar. There is something odd about them."

"They're programs." The words were out of Alice's mouth before she could stop them.

Erik sharply glanced at her. "What?"

 _Think fast._ "Oh. Haha. It was a really bad joke. Because they're so stiff and boring. They're like, uh, programmed robots. Heh." _Oh my God. Was this going to be a disaster? Had she ruined his Connection? Would SCI yell at her?_

"Oh." Erik forced a laugh. "Yes, you're right. They are kind of like robots. Boring and stiff."

He turned around, walked forward, and seemed to forget. Alice released a breath, her shoulders slouching in relief.

Maybe that was SCI 'taking care of things' again. Of course it would be impossible for all the residents to not make any mistakes around Erik, so SCI would make sure that he didn't dwell on inconsistencies. To some extent, SCI did that for all of them, made it easier for their brains to accept this reality.

She glanced one last time at the theater employee. Despite SCI's work, it was pretty easy to distinguish people programs from actual people. Programs would talk and interact with everyone, but there was a lack of depth to them. They could only do their job, and they were added to make the society feel a little more whole and realistic.

"What are you studying at the University?" she asked, making sure to direct his thoughts away from her mistake.

"Oh, I don't know," Erik replied with annoyance. "Well, I do know. In a nutshell, they have me exploring the nature versus nurture components of psychological illnesses. I don't know why I decided to pursue that topic. It's a little dull at times. I prefer to focus on my composing. And other little projects along the way."

"What projects?"

For the first time, she saw Erik smile. "I have lots of them and not enough time. I have an interest in architecture, building design. And, not to be rude, but this place could use a better architect."

She laughed. "Yeah. Our buildings are kind of boring." They were identical square brick structures.

"Yes, they are. I also like magic. I've been working on several tricks."

"Really? I'd like to see them."

"Only after they're perfected, Alice. I won't go around making a fool of myself. Especially after I just moved here." He suddenly seemed distracted again, concentrating on the sidewalk.

They reached the end of the block. "Anyway, you know the bar," she continued. Erik looked up. "There's another one on Central, but I don't go there much. And they don't have a piano."

"Then I would never want to go there," Erik stated.

"Exactly! There's a library. There's the duck pond. And some mountain trails over there." She pointed to the north. "They go into the woods. I like to go running on them several times a week."

"Running for pleasure?" Erik asked.

"Yeah. Running and biking. Not your thing?"

He tilted his head to the side. "Well, I feel like I have done a lot of running. But not for pleasure. Maybe because I'm always in a hurry?"

"Maybe. Anyway, I'd be happy to show you the trails someday."

Erik looked around, nearly turning in a circle as he did so. "It seems small here, doesn't it?"

"Yeah. But it's growing." It really was. SCI had recently added a beach and small island that they could reach by boat. With time, this world might be as large as the real one. Maybe even bigger. "Well, Erik, I guess I'd better get back to work."

"Oh, yes. I should, too." He slowly, almost shyly, looked up into her face. "Thank you for showing me around. I…You all probably think I'm strange. But I simply haven't felt all that well since I moved here. It has been an adjustment."

"You're welcome, and don't worry about it. It's a big change, and everyone understands. Let me know if you have any questions. Oh! And we have our monthly picnic next Saturday at the park next to the duck pond. We get together and hang out, and everyone brings a dish. We play volleyball or badminton. It's fun."

"I will think about that. What kind of dish?"

"Anything you want. Since it's your first time, you don't need to bring anything."

A pause. "I'll bring dessert," he finally said. "Maybe cookies like my mother used to make. Sugar and chocolate chip. She was a good cook."

"Sounds great. There's never enough dessert. Ken always brings like twenty pounds of meat." Erik chuckled at this.

Alice waved goodbye. She glanced behind her once as she walked away. Erik was still standing on the corner and staring over the town. He looked a little lost.

And she felt like a liar.

* * *

Nadir Khan unlocked the door to his apartment. It still smelled musty inside. After spending several months in a Colorado cabin, he had only been back home for a couple weeks. He could have afforded much bigger, but he didn't want a giant house with empty rooms. Too creepy. Too lonely.

He headed into his kitchen and opened the freezer. He heard a creak and turned. Nothing was there. He laughed at himself. Even after all these months, he still thought he heard Erik skulking around. That was impossible now. Erik was the closest thing to dead.

Maybe that was too morbid. Erik was the closest thing to non-existent? A momentary feeling of melancholy settled over him. Nadir ignored it.

Nadir settled down in his armchair with a microwavable bowl of rice, veggies, and chicken that was too dry. He searched for something good to watch on television. Finding nothing, he left it on a cop drama.

Halfway through his meal, there was a soft knock at the door. He set down the bowl and cautiously approached the entrance. Who would be visiting him? He glanced through the peephole. His shoulders relaxed, but Nadir was still on edge. He opened the door. "Jeremy? What are you doing here?"

"Can I come in?" the middle-aged man asked. He was dressed in a grey suit that nearly matched his hair, but there was something disheveled about his appearance. There was a weariness in his eyes, and wrinkles in his clothes.

"Of course. Come inside." Nadir made room. "Can I get you anything to drink?"

"No. I won't be here long." Jeremy remained in the entryway, shrouded in shadows.

"I haven't heard from you in a while. How are you?"

Jeremy glanced down. "Not too well at the moment. Governor Chagny cleaned house and hired his own people. I'm out of a job."

"I'm so sorry. Let me know if I can do anything for you. I may be able to find you work at -"

"Thanks, but I'm moving out to Montana to help with my father-in-law's farm business. It'll feel good to do some manual labor after all these years of paper pushing."

"You did a lot more than push paper. But I hope you're happy there. Life on a farm sounds good to me."

"I will be happy in time." Jeremy looked straight at Nadir. "Let's face it, though. It was better for _all_ of us when Governor Hornsby was in office."

Nadir squared his shoulders. "Was that meant to sound threatening?"

"No. I mean, it wasn't a threat. I just meant that we have to be very careful right now. They're looking everywhere for corruption and wrongdoing. They're scanning the computers. Looking at phone records. Hell, they're even digging through dumpsters."

"I'm not worried. I'm sure we covered our tracks. And SCI covered theirs. They know what they're doing."

Jeremy grunted. "Do they? Purple Leaf Pharmaceuticals is being investigated for bribery of a government official. C.B. Financials is being accused of collusion. I'm sure both those companies thought that they knew what they were doing, too. I'm sure that SCI has powerful friends, but it'd be naïve to think they're invincible."

Nadir thrust out his palms "What the hell do you want me to say? This is a done deal. I was told that the elections wouldn't matter."

"I'm not trying to upset you. I'm telling you to be extra careful. Make sure your computer is secure and be careful who you talk to. Don't discuss anything on the phone. I don't want your reputation tarnished, Nadir. You served the police well for many years. In fact, I…" He tapered off.

"You what?"

Jeremy shook his head. "I never knew if you made the right decision when it came to all this."

"Of course it wasn't the _right_ decision. It was personal. And I take full responsibility. But I was also told that everything would be okay."

"Maybe it will be. But I had to warn you. Chagny means business. Be careful." Jeremy headed for the door. "I'll leave you alone now. I have a plane to catch."

"You have a good night. Take care. Call me if you need anything."

"You, too."

Nadir locked the door behind him. He slowly returned to his armchair, not the least bit hungry anymore. Jeremy could be a little paranoid, but Nadir still wasn't going to take his words lightly. Maybe he should have a meeting with SCI to make sure that they knew of the dangers. How hard would it be to discreetly move operations out of this state and into another? Probably fairly difficult. Nadir cursed under his breath.

There was far too much to lose now.

Gabby sent Nadir a progress report every couple of weeks. In the beginning months, SCI had been worried. Erik's brain was resisting the Connection. He had even woken up once and nearly escaped his restraints. One of the nurses had quit out of fear for her life.

After that, SCI had introduced multiple psychiatric medications into Erik's system to calm him down, to sedate him and force him to accept his new life and reality. They had also made what Gabby described as 'programming adjustments.' Nadir had been upset to learn this information. But there was no going back by then.

With the pharmaceuticals and adjustments, Erik had stopped fighting. His brain finally accepted the Connection. Gabby's last message claimed that, per the feedback they were gathering from scans, Erik was improving with each passing month. Sometimes he even seemed…happy.

 _Happy._

That made Nadir happy, too. And no goddamned government official riding his high horse had better take that from Erik. Just thinking about it made Nadir grind his teeth together.

Yes, he would meet with SCI.

And maybe he would pay Erik a visit, too.

Over a year ago, that would have been a very dangerous activity.

But now Erik would not even know he was there.


	4. Chapter 4

**This chapter may continue a few disturbing elements, though nothing over the top.**

 **Hopefully this long chapter will solve some of the mystery. Read and Review!**

"What is this?"

"What is what?"

Christine held up the letter and thrust it out toward her mother. A dating reality show played on television. A girl with bright pink lipstick was complaining about the gap in her date's top front teeth. Denise sat in her chair, looking between the T.V. and Christine as though trying to decide which was more interesting.

"What is that?" Denise asked. "I can't read it from here."

Christine came closer. "This letter from our landlord. Did you read it?"

"I don't know. What does it say?"

Frustration welled up in Christine's chest. "It says we have to clean this place, or they're going to kick us out. Why didn't you tell me?"

Denise waved her away. "They don't mean it. We pay rent. They can't kick us out."

"Yes, they can! But we should have thirty days. Right? Unless…is this the only letter you've received about the mess in here?"

"I don't know," Denise muttered, turning back to the T.V. Now a bunch of the reality show people were in a hot tub together, drinking champagne and laughing.

"You don't know?" Christine asked with disbelief. "How can you not know? They're threatening to kick us out! Do you want to end up on the street in the middle of winter? You don't have anywhere else to go." Aunt Jackie would probably take Christine in for a little while, but Denise had no family left.

"They can't kick us out. It's illegal."

Christine groaned. Denise ignored her. Needing a moment to breathe, Christine turned away with a deliberately loud sigh and marched into her bedroom. She kicked a box out of the way and sat down on her bed. She put her head into her hands and closed her eyes, wanting to cry and scream.

 _Breathe in. Breathe out. Calm down. Okay. What do I do next?_

There was only one solution. Even if it was all she did for the next forty-eight hours, she would clean up this apartment. Christine emerged from her room and went into the kitchen. Dirty dishes were piled up in the sink and on the counter. The room smelled like a mixture of mold and rotting fruit. Christine rummaged through a cabinet and grabbed a black plastic bag. She threw pieces of trash into the sack. Milk cartons. Empty tin cans. Produce that was now unrecognizable, including an apple that had turned into a kiwi fruit.

She piled all the dishes in the sink. Unwashed dishes were a lower priority than the disaster in the living room and Denise's bedroom. Grabbing another sack, Christine went out to where Denise was watching television. She snatched handfuls of trash, old newspapers and magazines and candy wrappers, and stuffed them into the bag. Then she began to throw old clothes away, too, along with stuffed animals and weird knickknacks that her mother kept buying at garage sales.

"What are you doing?" Denise asked, rising from the chair. Christine didn't answer. "Stop it. That's my stuff! Stop touching it! What are you doing?"

"Cleaning this place!" Christine snapped. "So we don't get evicted!"

A pause. "Leave it alone. I'll do it."

"No, you won't. You always say that, but you never do. You've been like this since Dad died, and I'm tired of it. So I'm cleaning this apartment."

Denise came toward her and grabbed the edge of the bag. "Stop touching my stuff!"

Christine yanked the bag back toward her and continued to throw things away. She kept her head down, not wanting her mother to see the tears gathering in her eyes. Someone had to be strong.

"Stop it!" Denise yelled into her face, her blue eyes wild. "Stop touching my things! I'll call the police if you don't stop! Get out of my house! I don't have to take care of you anymore. Get out!"

Christine sharply glanced up. The bag slipped from her hands and hit the floor with a soft thud. "You taking care of me? If it wasn't for me working, we wouldn't have any money. I take care of you!"

"Get out my house," Denise said through gritted teeth. She pointed a finger toward the door. "Get out! I don't want you here anymore!"

Christine threw her hands up. She went back toward her bedroom.

"I said I wanted you out!" Denise's voice cracked. "Why do you always do this to me? Why are you so mean?!"

"I'm not mean! I'm getting my purse!" Christine grabbed that and her phone, then searched for her coat and gloves. When she came back out, Denise was staring at the television again. Her posture was slumped, and she seemed hypnotized by the screen.

Christine probably could have stayed in the apartment without consequences by that point. But she wanted out. The air was stale and warm and stinky, and Christine felt as though she would break down if she had to stay in that place for another second.

The cold air felt refreshing against her clammy forehead as she stepped outside. She slammed the door behind her and then regretted it. _Now she was just another woman in a domestic dispute, standing on her front porch with nowhere to go._

But she did have somewhere to go. Sort of. Her legs automatically carried her to the bus stop. For now, she swallowed down the feeling in her chest and bit her bottom lip. At least the driver was friendly, smiling at her as she climbed on. The hum and forward motion of the bus was comforting. Long rides had always made her sleepy.

She climbed off at her familiar stop. To her relief, the theater was still unlocked. It looked like a couple people were still working in the front offices. Christine tiptoed past them, not wanting to answer any questions or to commiserate about how this place would be gone soon. She went backstage, behind the curtain, and turned on a single light. The whole area was lit with a ghostly glow.

She sat down on a set of wooden steps that led up to the stage. Then she cried, trying to keep her sobs quiet as her shoulders shook. She wept for her father, remembering the day her mother tearfully said that there had been an accident at his job. Christine wept for Denise, who had never recovered from the death of her husband and had turned into a shell of a human being. And Christine wept for herself. Because it all seemed like too much sometimes. After that, she just sat there, breathing quietly in the silence.

She was alone here now.

But not always.

Christine had told Raoul that she had never experienced any of the supernatural occurrences at the theater. That was kind of the truth. She had never heard or seen anything.

But she had sometimes felt as though she were being watched. Like one time, while helping with scenery, she had started singing to herself, one of her father's favorite ballads. All the other employees and volunteers had left, but Christine still had the feeling she wasn't alone. She sensed someone listening to her. That had happened several times. It had been a little creepy.

Yet there had also been something weirdly comforting about it. She had wondered if the sensation were her father's spirit, keeping watch over her, listening to her sing. He had bought her voice lessons at age eight, and she had continued them until he died. There was no way to afford them now, and Christine hadn't felt much like singing anyway.

She hadn't sensed the ghostly presence for over a year. Now she felt truly alone. Christine gathered her knees up to her chest. What would she do now? Go back home? That sounded awful, but she couldn't stay here all night.

Her phone rang and startled her. She glanced at the bright screen. _Raoul._

"Hello?" she answered.

"Hey! How are you?" His cheery voice broke into the emptiness and warmed her broken heart.

"I'm okay," she replied. "You?"

"Good. So I talked to my dad about the theater. I managed to grab him between meetings. He said he'd look into it. But he thought that the shopping center would still need somewhere to put the parking garage. So maybe we could think of another place for it? He also said that, if they were closing the theater, that probably meant it wasn't generating a lot of revenue."

"It's not generating revenue because everyone thinks it's closing down," she murmured. "The crowds used to be a lot bigger."

"Right. Yeah, I just thought you'd like to know. We can try to think of solutions."

"Thank you for looking into it." She didn't have the energy to think of solutions right then. Her head hurt from crying, and she was exhausted.

"I'm sorry it's not better news."

"No. It's what I expected. It's fine."

"Are you okay?" Raoul asked. He could probably hear the hoarseness in her voice. Or maybe the echo in this giant room.

"Yeah. I'm fine."

"Are you at home?"

"I'm fine." She swallowed. "I got into a fight with my mother. She's depressed and not thinking straight. So sometimes it's hard. But I'm okay."

"Where are you?" he asked again.

"At the theater," she admitted.

"By yourself? In that part of town at night?"

"I think there's still a couple people working here." They'd probably gone home by now. "Anyway, I'm always here by myself at night. I like to haunt the theater." She made a weak attempt at a joke.

"Stay there. I'll drive over."

"No. You don't have to come. I'll go back home soon. I'll be fine."

"I'll be right there," Raoul insisted. "Please stay there. Stay safe. There's a lot of crime in that area."

She stopped protesting, despite feeling kind of pathetic. She didn't want to be alone, and he was right about the crime. Some pretty gruesome stuff had happened in this part of the city.

"Thanks. You can pick me up the back way. By the statues."

"I'll be there in fifteen minutes," he replied. They hung up.

After ten minutes of sitting with her chin resting on her knees, Christine headed in that direction. It was cold outside, and the darkness made the statues appear especially distorted.

She remembered that night, about a year ago.

It had been late, at least eleven, and she had come out this way. Nearly twenty police cars had been parked around the alley. The streets and buildings had all been lit up in whites and blues and reds. Officers were running around, talking on crackling radios. She couldn't understand what they were saying. But she distinctly remembered one of the policemen. It looked like he was partly in charge of…whatever was going on. He'd had a darker complexion. He had stood beside one of the police cars. The back window was slightly cracked. He kept saying to whomever was inside that vehicle, "It's going to be okay. I promise it'll be okay." He had sounded so sad. "I promise it will be okay."

Then she had been forced to leave the area. It was a crime scene.

She had asked around the theater the next day, but no one knew what had happened. Her coworkers guessed that the cops were picking up a vagrant or a junkie.

 _But why would they have needed twenty cop cars for a homeless drug addict?_

She had never found the answer.

Raoul's car soon pulled up. A BMW. Its bright lights illuminated the street and statues.

It suddenly occurred to Christine that, after that night one year ago, she had stopped feeling like someone was watching her.

 _Coincidence?_

Christine shivered as she climbed inside the car.

* * *

It was sunny again. Sometimes Alice wished there was more rain and snow here, just for a change of pace. In her Before, she had enjoyed those cloudy days of curling up with a book and a cup of tea, the sound of rain faintly tapping against the windows.

Still, it was a perfect day for their picnic after a long workweek. And a long week of thinking about Erik's situation. Alice asked Ken and Leigh if they would meet her a little earlier than anticipated. She wanted their opinions.

By the time Alice got to the park, a fruit and vegetable tray in hand, Leigh was spreading out a blue and yellow checkered cloth over the grass, right beneath a leafy tree. Ken was setting up the volleyball net, forcing the poles into the damp dirt. Alice waved.

"How's it going?" Leigh asked. Her blonde hair was up in a stylish bun, and her eyes were covered by giant sunglasses.

"Good. No time to cook, so…" Alice gestured to her tray.

Leigh laughed. "Yeah, I brought some packaged chips and cookies."

"Erik said he was bringing cookies, too."

Leigh started. "Really? Erik's coming?" Ken finished setting up and walked over to them.

"He said he might. That's why I asked you guys to come early." Alice lowered her voice. SCI reassured them that they would always have privacy but still…

"What'd you want to talk about?" Ken asked, plopping on the ground. He grabbed a handful of baked potato chips. Alice and Leigh sat beside him on the blanket.

"I showed Erik around last Saturday," Alice began. "He opened up a little more."

"That's good," said Leigh. "He's so quiet. Find out anything interesting?"

"That's just it," Alice replied, looking between them. "Erik _wanted_ to tell me about himself. He tried. But it was like all his memories were made up. He doesn't remember his life before the Connection. So I think he has fake memories. He didn't know about the programs here, either. He thought the bartender and movie theater cashier were real people."

"That'd make sense," said Ken. "It's what SCI said would happen."

They both stared at Alice, waiting for her to make a point that she thought was obvious. "Well, is it right?" she whispered. "To wipe out his memories and give him fakes ones?"

"Yeah," said Ken without much thought. "I think so. If it helps him. I'm sure Erik agreed to it." He glanced down. "I know they erased a couple of mine. I mean, I know I stepped on a roadside bomb. But I don't remember what it felt like. Thank God."

Ken was not the only ex-military here. SCI had explored veterans extensively. The public was supportive of this, which could be hit or miss when it came to SCI's initiatives.

Alice gently replied, "But there's a big difference between blocking out one horrible memory and blocking an entire lifetime. Right? I mean, it's like Erik…" _What was she trying to say?_ "It's like Erik has been recreated."

"I kind of get where you're coming from," Leigh began. "But I trust Second Chances. They've been nothing but good to us. Maybe this is what's best for Erik."

"Maybe," Alice murmured.

And maybe she didn't understand. None of her memories had been wiped out. Unlike Leigh and Ken, her reasons for being here were less traumatic. A slow, simmering pain that had built up over a lifetime versus a quick dive into Hell.

At least, Alice didn't think any of her memories were gone. She didn't say it out loud, but that was the other part of her concern. _If SCI can erase all memories now, then they could do it to any of us. We wouldn't even know._

"I just find the idea of wiping out someone's memory a little creepy," Alice said.

"But if it's what Erik agreed to," said Leigh, "who are we to argue?"

They sat there in thought. Ducks quacked behind them.

"Well," said Ken. "I say we do what SCI says. We could really fuck Erik up if we don't, right?"

"Exactly," said Leigh. "We don't know anything about him or why he's here."

"All right," Alice reluctantly agreed, rubbing her temple. "I won't say anything."

Corey arrived, a blue backpack slung over his shoulder. The conversation ended. They were all a little more careful around Corey. It was his job to be here, to take notes on this world. He was their friend and they mostly trusted him, but he wasn't one of them. He wasn't a patient.

A couple other people showed up after that. Veronica. Chris. Rachel. Tim. Alice glanced around the park. No sign of Erik. Maybe he had changed his mind. He was very shy.

They sipped on soda and beer. They munched on chips and vegetables. Ken brought out barbecued ribs that he had cooked on the grill. Chris supplied hot dogs and buns.

"Next month, instead of having the picnic, we should all go out on that new boat," suggested Ken.

"Oh, we already went," said Rachel, glancing at Tim. He smiled at her. "It was awesome. They have some cool animals on the island. Toucans and monkeys."

Rachel and Tim were a couple. That was perfectly fine here, although some parts of the other life were not possible. No one could have children. Only people eighteen and older were permitted to be here, although Corey had mentioned that there were some court fights concerning children with painful chronic conditions.

Ken jumped up, ready to play volleyball. They all joined in. Alice, Corey, Veronica, Chris on one side. Leigh, Ken, Tim, and Rachel on the other. Corey served, and the game began. They teased each other as they made terrible shots or missed the ball, the grass crunching beneath their bare feet and the wind in their hair.

Alice cried out as Corey accidentally ran straight into her, sending them both to the ground. When she pulled herself up, laughing and dusting the dirt from her jeans, she noticed him.

 _Erik._ Standing beside the blanket, watching them. He held a large ceramic plate in his hands that was covered by napkins. Alice grinned and waved. "Hey! Glad you could come!"

Ken turned to Erik. "You want in? We can be uneven. Or I can step out."

"No," said Erik, kneeling onto the blanket. His posture remained very straight. "I will stay here."

"Feel free to eat," said Alice. She turned her attention back to the game. Whenever she looked at Erik, he was watching them closely, studying them as they chased after the ball and whacked it over the net. She never saw him eat.

Tim got tired of playing and said he wanted another hot dog. Ken looked at Erik again. "Now you have to play. Come on! We need you!" Everyone else agreed, gesturing for him to come over.

To Alice's surprise, Erik slowly stood, emerging out into the sunlight and approaching the net. He was kind of skinny, and, from the way he moved, the slight gawkiness, she didn't expect him to be very athletic. He didn't seem comfortable in his body. That was fine. With the exception of Ken and Veronica, none of them were great at sports.

But Alice was in for another surprise.

Erik's reflexes were like nothing she had ever seen before, at least not in a human being. Maybe in a tiger or a cheetah, stalking its prey. He was fast to anticipate where the ball was moving. He was ambitious, almost aggressive, about getting to it in time. It took him a few tries to figure out how to hit the ball so that it went in the right direction. But, once Erik had that down, nothing could stop him.

"Holy crap," Corey muttered after Erik scored another point. "I feel like we were just hustled." Alice was too shocked and amused to be disappointed about losing.

"Awesome!" Ken exclaimed with a grin after his side had easily won. "Erik's always on my team from now on!" Alice watched as Ken gave Erik a firm but friendly pat on the back, jolting Erik. She swore she saw a flash of anger on Erik's face. Then the anger turned to surprise. Then the surprise turned to confusion.

"Yay!" exclaimed Leigh. She ran up to Erik and held up her hand. Erik stared at it for an uncomfortably long moment. "High five?" Leigh asked with a laugh. After another pause, Erik weakly slapped her hand, as though he were afraid to touch her. Leigh grinned and shook her head.

They started to pack up and head home. Alice grabbed a handful of Erik's cookies and bit into a chocolate chip. "Mm," she hummed. "You can cook, too."

"I found my mother's recipe," he stated.

A couple other people tried his cookies and agreed they were delicious. Everyone was smiling and chatting as they left in groups of twos and threes. Erik stood to the side, still studying them. He didn't say much except for soft "thank yous" to the compliments he received.

"Did you have fun?" Alice asked as she picked up her half-empty tray and slid on her sandals.

"Yes," said Erik. "Thank you for inviting me."

"You're always welcome to hang out with us."

They started to walk in the same direction. The air cooled, and a pleasant breeze brushed against their faces. Erik closed his eyes as the wind touched his cheeks and rustled his dark hair. He looked at peace. Maybe Leigh and Ken were right. Maybe Erik was healing here.

"Alice?"

"Yeah?" He was a couple steps behind her, and she glanced back.

"I called my mom last night to talk to her." His voice sounded small and uncertain.

"Really?" Alice felt unsettled again. "How'd that go?"

"She was fine. She said she was excited about all my research opportunities. She said she was proud of me. She-She said she loved me. But…"

"But what?"

"I felt strange. Like I didn't know who I was speaking to. I had this feeling that something was off. Has that ever happened to you?"

"Sure," she said, and it wasn't a lie. "Sometimes it's weird talking to people when you haven't seen them in a while. It's like you don't know them as well anymore."

"Yes. Right." He nodded. "That's probably all it was. I'll visit her soon."

"Yeah. That sounds good." They reached a street corner.

"I'm going this way," said Erik, pointing.

"Okay. You have a good night. And remember to let me, or any of my… _our_ friends know if you need anything."

"Okay," Erik murmured.

They started to walk in different directions.

"Huh!" Erik exclaimed behind her.

Alice turned around. He had stopped walking and was staring at his right hand. "You okay?" she asked.

"Yes. I'm fine. I just felt a strange tingling in my hand. Maybe it was from playing that ball game." Erik shrugged. His hand dropped to his side, and he continued on his way.

* * *

Ten years ago, highly advanced virtual reality became all the rage. Rich parents bought expensive video game systems for their children. Arcades and amusement parks devoted tons of money and space to virtual experiences. There was talk of the police and military using it for training purposes. Nadir remembered being annoyed because people wouldn't quit talking about the miracles of virtual reality.

The buzz had died down, but SCI was still thriving.

Second Chances Incorporated was not a game nor a training module nor a fun experience. It was a clinical program, a medical procedure. It was very costly and very controversial, maybe dangerous. People literally put their lives into this company's hands, which was why the first recruited patients were individuals who had been pursuing euthanasia.

The discussions began - in court rooms, in Congress, on the cable news shows. Should only people with horrific injuries be allowed into the SCI program? What about those with chronic pain? What about those with severe depression? What about those who just wanted a new start in life?

Various states passed laws regulating virtual reality. Some had even banned SCI from ever operating within their boundaries.

Still, it wasn't as though everyone could sign up to be permanently plugged in. SCI was highly selective. It cost a lot of money to keep a human being alive and hooked up to a powerful computing system, to perfect and individualize each person's unique programming needs. Nadir had been lucky to know Gabby. He had also been fortunate in that a top SCI executive had seen an opportunity in Erik, had decided that Erik was the worth the high risk.

Nadir didn't have the answers to all the ethical questions surrounding SCI. He only knew a miracle when he saw one. He had chosen to rescue Erik from prison and from death.

Company headquarters were about a forty-five minute drive from his apartment. He headed over there late in the afternoon, turning off the highway and onto a road that first wound through empty fields. Every so often, he checked his rearview mirror to make sure no one was following him. The twenty story building glinted in the distance, a block of silver steel and windows. A chain link fence surrounded the area. Nadir slowed as he approached the security post.

"I don't see you on the list," said a guard with a bushy blonde mustache, looking at his computer. "Are you sure you're not supposed to be at Consultations? That's on the other side."

"No, I'm supposed to be here," said Nadir. "Gabby Giry said to come this way. I think she also mentioned a Daniel Gregg?"

"One moment." The guard picked up his phone and made a call, turning away so that Nadir couldn't hear him. The conversation was brief. The guard turned around. "Go on through, Mr. Khan."

Nadir shifted into drive and headed through the gates, feeling a tightening in his stomach. He parked in a half empty lot. He took a moment to compose himself before getting out of the car, knowing that the next hour or so would be difficult. The air was quiet and still, no birds chirping or singing. He entered the sliding glass doors, catching a glimpse of his tired eyes and the stubble on his face. The building still smelled of fresh paint. The floors in the front office were black and polished. They gleamed under multiple skylights. Chiming elevators surrounded him on all sides. It was very modern.

Gabby met him before he approached the information desk, wearing a navy blue pantsuit and high heels. She looked so different from the frazzled night nurse he had encountered in a bar all those years ago. "Nadir," she greeted, leaning in for a quick hug. "I'm so glad you came. I know you've been avoiding it."

He didn't deny that. "How are you, Gabby? How's your daughter?"

"We're both doing great. Meg is dancing at a local studio. I'm working a lot, but I'm managing."

He followed her into a nearby office that had a long table with ten chairs. A dim meeting room. Another man was standing in there, a thin guy wearing a white lab coat over a grey button-down shirt and khakis. He was clean shaven and couldn't have been over thirty. "This is Daniel," Gabby said. "He can answer more technical questions that you might have about treatment."

"Nice to meet you," said Nadir, holding out a hand.

Daniel gave it a firm shake and smiled. "Likewise, Mr., uh, Officer Khan."

"Please call me Nadir. I'm retired." Nadir looked toward Gabby. "I also wanted to talk to someone in management about my recent concerns." He gave her a meaningful stare.

Gabby quickly nodded. "I got you a meeting with Dave Prager. It was the best I could do on such short notice. I'd love to have you meet with…Well, never mind. She's always traveling on business. Anyway, Dave can speak to you in about a half hour."

"Thank you," said Nadir. He hesitated and realized he was wringing his hands together. "I do have questions about treatment. But would it be all right if I visited Erik first?"

"Of course," said Gabby. "That's fine. Come right this way." They left the office and took an elevator to the fourteenth floor. The door slid open, and Nadir squinted in the bright fluorescent lighting. Up there, it looked more like a hospital than a Fortune 500 company.

"It's really been an amazing experience," said Daniel as they strolled past white walls and over grey-green linoleum tiles. "Working with Erik, I mean. A little unnerving in the beginning. I still have some red marks on my wrist and the occasional nightmare. But once we knew what we were doing, it was fantastic to see his progress."

"Huh," murmured Nadir.

"I'd done some work with mental illness," Daniel continued. "But this was the first time we were handed someone with Erik's, uh, unique psychological makeup. Overcoming all that dysfunction, near psychopathy, was really the project of a lifetime. I had a fun time playing around with his mind, figuring out what worked and what didn't. It gave me some ideas for research papers."

Nadir felt increasingly disturbed.

"You'll have to excuse Daniel," Gabby muttered under her breath. "He's extremely smart but was fresh out of school when we hired him. I'm still teaching him to see Erik as more than a science project."

Nadir only nodded.

Gabby continued in a louder voice, "For security purposes, we keep Erik physically away from all the other patients. But he does easily interact with them through his Connection. I'll have Daniel tell you more about that later." She stopped in front of an inconspicuous grey door. Room number 1457. "Here's Erik." She took the white badge that hung around her neck and held it up to a sensor. The light changed from red to green, and the door clicked. She put her hand on the knob. "Are you ready?" she asked.

"Ready as I'll ever be," said Nadir.

He inhaled and stepped into a dimly lit room. His heart beat more quickly in his chest. It seemed colder in there. Only a small window let in the sunlight.

"Erik is right over there," said Daniel with pride in his voice, pointing to the left.

Nadir's breath caught in his throat. He had seen Erik once like this before, when Erik had first been connected, but the sight was still shocking.

Erik was fastened to a white bed-like device that was tilted at a forty-five degree angle from the ground. He wore only a skimpy light blue hospital gown that dropped down to his knees. His bony, pale arms were slightly out at his sides. His equally skinny legs were together. All four long appendages were secured by straps to the contraption, leaving limited room for movement. His mask was gone, but he had what looked like flat black goggles over his hollow eyes. A black helmet concealed most of his skull. All of this and the tubes coming out of his mouth and the hole where a nose should have been obscured much of his disfigurement.

There were so many cords hooked up to every part of his body, attached to the top of the helmet and snaking beneath the hospital gown. His legs and arms had round white patches all over them. The nickel-sized patches were connected to thin white cords that led into a humming machine. It resembled a large computer tower. Multiple wires connected the machine to the wall. Nadir didn't understand what that was, probably something to do with the Connection. He was able to identity the feeding tubes and the heart monitor and all the other equipment that kept Erik alive.

Feeling queasy, Nadir slowly approached him. "Hello, Erik," Nadir murmured, his voice hoarse. Of course there was no response. He turned to Gabby and Daniel. "Can I touch him?"

It sounded like Daniel was about to protest, but Gabby spoke first. "Of course. It won't hurt anything. Mentally, he's a million miles away from here."

Nadir shakily reached out and squeezed Erik's frigid, limp right hand. He swore that he felt the tiniest twitch in Erik's fingers, a sign of life, but that may have been his imagination. "It's good to see you, old friend," he whispered. Gabby and Daniel kept a respectful distance. "I hear you're doing well. I'm very happy for you. You probably wouldn't believe that, but I am." He chuckled as his heart was squeezed in his chest. "I keep waiting for you to insult me or tell me I'm an idiot. I almost wish you would. Does that make me a masochist? You would probably say so."

Silence was the only reply, save for the mechanical humming and buzzing of all the machines.

The Erik he had known was gone.


	5. Chapter 5

**Thank you all and hope you continue to enjoy.**

 **Read and Review!**

The heater blew over her. Soft rock played on the radio station. _Unchained Melody._ Christine listened. "I love this song," she said. "My dad used to play it all the time. I'm always singing it to myself."

"It is a good song," Raoul agreed. He kept the car in park and turned to look at her.

She tucked her purse tightly against her stomach. "So thanks for coming," she murmured.

"Sure! No problem! You sounded pretty upset on the phone. I didn't want you alone out here by yourself. Is it okay if I ask what's up with your mom?"

Christine sighed. "Like I said, she's depressed. She's been that way since my dad died, and it just gets worse and worse. She's always been a little fragile. Her dad was an alcoholic, and…Anyway, she's pretty much become a hoarder."

"A hoarder? Like those people on that show?"

"Yeah." She felt embarrassed. "It's not as gross as some of those houses. But there are piles of garbage and garage sale stuff. I tried to clean it up because the landlord is threatening to evict us. My mom screamed at me and told me to get out. So I did."

"That's rough. Have you tried to get her help?"

"I've suggested counseling. We don't have a ton of money. But, yeah, I told her she needed help with her depression. She doesn't want to listen to me. She wants to be left alone. Unless she's hungry or needs a lottery ticket, then she asks for money."

"Jesus."

"I don't want to be mean to her, but I'm so frustrated. Why can't she at least try to get better?"

Raoul shook his head. "I'd be frustrated, too. I'm sorry you're going through that."

"Thank you. I'm planning to get out of there soon. Once I have enough saved up, I'm moving."

"Sounds like a good plan. For your own sanity." She nodded. "Do you want me to drive you home?"

"Not really," she admitted. "But that's pretty much the only place I have to go. All my other relatives live far away. Most of my friends are off at college."

"I can understand," he replied. "I only have a few close friends. With my dad and brother, I have to be kind of careful."

"Not that careful," she teased with a touch of sadness. "I'm in your car right now, telling you my sob story, and you barely know me."

Raoul smiled slightly. "I can tell you're a good person."

She glanced down. "It doesn't feel that way sometimes. I feel like I should do more to help her. But what?"

"It sounds like you're doing your best." Christine didn't answer. Raoul hesitated. "If you don't want to go home right away, I can take you to our family townhouse. We use it for guests and visitors, but no one is there right now. You'll have a big bedroom and bathroom all to yourself."

"I better not." She rubbed her temple. "But, God, that is so tempting."

"Then come. Give yourself a break from all the stress. I can show you around, drop you off, and leave a key. Whatever you want."

"I don't have pajamas with me."

"We have everything you need there. Plenty of t-shirts."

"I…All right," she nearly whispered. "Thank you." She really didn't want to go back home. She texted her mother: _Staying with friend. Back tomorrow._ There was no instant reply.

Christine didn't regret the decision. The brick townhome was gorgeous on the inside and outside. It was three stories tall. The dining room was near the massive entryway and had a table that could have seated at least fifteen people. A golden chandelier hung over it. The kitchen had marble counters and silver pots hanging from racks that were arranged to be decorative. All the furniture was expensive, a black leather sectional sofa taking up half the den. And her bedroom! It had a king-sized bed with a beautiful midnight blue and gold comforter. It had its own fireplace and a bathroom with a round tub. The whole interior of the home smelled like cinnamon and Christmas.

It was such a contrast to the mess she had lived in for the last several years. Christine was overwhelmed.

"Okay. You have to see this," said Raoul when they were back in the den.

"What?" she asked, still taking in the beautiful home.

"Here. Put these on." Raoul handed her a pair of black goggles. Christine slid the strap over her head and adjusted them over her eyes. She could still see Raoul. He took a remote control off the coffee table and pushed a button. A woman's voice spoke into her ear, startling her. "Welcome to the virtual mall. Where would you like to go? What are you looking for?"

Christine gasped and then laughed. "Oh, it's one of these. I've heard about them. Um. Shoes! Show me shoes!"

"You're looking for shoes," said the woman. "One moment please." Suddenly, virtual shoe shops popped up on both sides of her, lined up and down a simple street and set against a blue sky. The woman continued, "Walk forward and backward to browse stores. Walk inside to browse selections." Christine strolled through the shoe paradise. The images were fuzzy, and it was mainly a visual experience. She could reach out and pick up a pair of black boots but not feel the cool leather in her hands. The female employee in the store was obviously artificial intelligence, her smile frozen and her eyes vacant.

This was not Christine's first time within virtual reality. When they had money, her father had taken her to an amusement park. She had explored a haunted forest and a fairy tale land, walking between castles and into trees, laughing as elves and fairies and trolls scampered around her. She had felt the wind on her face and smelled the pine trees.

"It's a little outdated," said Raoul. "Phillip and I also had a VR gaming system. We played with it for hours. Then it got kind of old."

She pulled the goggles off over her head. "It's kind of fun. But I would miss shoe shopping for real."

"Exactly." Raoul grinned. "Reality rocks."

After showing her the kitchen and telling her that she could help herself to any food, Raoul brought her back to her bedroom. "So here you are. There are t-shirts and pajamas in the top dresser drawer. They're all washed. There's an extra toothbrush in the bathroom. Shampoo and soap are in the shower."

"Wow."

"Yeah, this place is like our hotel."

"Are you sure your dad won't mind me staying here?" she asked.

"Yeah. It's fine. He's too busy to notice anything."

"Thank you." She paused and asked, "Are you staying here?"

"Do you want me to?"

"Well. Yeah. Just in case someone comes inside and thinks I'm squatting or something. I can just see the headlines. Girl Arrested at Governor's Townhouse. Raoul Chagny Denies Knowing Anything About Her."

He laughed. "You're fine, but I'll stay. I'll be in the bedroom at the end of this hall. Knock if anyone tries to arrest you. Or if you need anything."

"Okay." After a brief hesitation, she stepped forward and hugged him. "Thank you again for this."

He eagerly embraced her. "No problem!"

After brushing her teeth and putting on a t-shirt and some checkered pants, Christine settled into that giant bed for one of the best sleeps of her life. It was warm and soft and smelled of fresh detergent. She felt like she was on a cloud. Christine burrowed deep beneath the covers and slept soundly. In the morning, as soon as she woke up and remembered where she was, Christine checked her phone.

Her mom still hadn't texted her back.

* * *

"Explain to me what it's like in there," said Nadir.

"Sure," said Daniel in a chipper voice. They sat across from each other at a long conference table. Gabby was sitting to Nadir's left. "The main world, Section 1, is like a college town. We were originally recruiting patients between the ages of twenty and thirty. So a small, hip town seemed like an ideal setting. As part of this arrangement, they're also doing research. A lot of the time, that research is related to their condition. For example, some of them have genetic disorders that made life very painful. So they'd be studying anything from treatment to gene therapy to prevention."

"What happens to that research?" Nadir asked.

"Depends how useful the results are. We'll share it with universities, pharmaceutical companies, the NIH, other research programs."

"Share it or sell it?"

Daniel eyed him. "It depends."

Gabby leaned forward and said, "The patients are fully aware of the arrangement. SCI was first able to fund itself with donations and investments. We still do, but that sort of money eventually dries up. The current situation is ethical, though. The patients do light research for us, no more than they'd do at a regular job. We give them a much better life and a chance to contribute to society."

"All right," said Nadir. Now wasn't the time to get into a debate over labor ethics. "Let's get back to Erik. He's over forty years old. Doesn't he feel out of place in a hip college town?"

Daniel and Gabby exchanged a glance. "Erik thinks he's in his twenties," said Daniel. "There were a lot of advantages to that. We only had to create twenty years of memories for him. Unfortunately, he'll feel like he's becoming very elderly at sixty or seventy instead of eighty or ninety. But it was a necessary undertaking."

"And he really believes that he's in his twenties?"

"So far, yes," said Daniel.

"Do these patients know where they are? I mean, what if they want to get out of this college town and go on vacation or something? Doesn't this pose a problem?"

Gabby answered, "Most of our patients, nearly all, are aware that they're in this System. We're working on expanding the world so that they have more places to go. But the patients know of the world's limitations, and they accept them. Many patients are scheduled to wake up several times a year to see their families. If they're physically able, they can visit the real world. We keep their muscles stimulated to make this possible."

"But Erik is not scheduled to wake up, right?" Nadir asked.

Gabby nodded, and there was a slight sadness in her tone. "Erik is an exception. He thinks that world is real. The other patients have been told not to reveal the truth to him."

"But what if they do?" asked Nadir, leaning forward. "That seems kind of precarious, don't you think? I worked in law enforcement for decades. You ask someone not to talk, guess what they're going to do? Tell the whole world!"

"Well, first of all," said Daniel, "they'll be severely scolded if they do damage Erik's progress. Being part of the SCI project is a privilege, not a right. Erik is also programmed to not notice small inconsistencies. So little slip ups here and there won't matter."

"All right. But what about my other question? What if Erik wants to see another part of the world? Isn't he going to be confused if the Earth ends at the edge of that town? I hate to break it to you, but he's far from stupid."

Gabby said, "You're right, Nadir. We might have to improve our programming capabilities."

"Yeah," Daniel agreed. "It's a new opportunity for us. We can create a bigger world for him if it becomes necessary."

"So he could live his whole life in there, and not ever know the truth?" Nadir asked, still skeptical.

"Hopefully," said Daniel.

"Can you tell what he's doing in there?" Nadir asked. "Do you monitor your patients?"

"We try to give them as much privacy as possible," said Gabby. "If a patient appears to be in discomfort, we'll investigate. We monitor moods. And then we have our own employees in there to make sure everything is working properly. They give us an insider's perspective, tell us how things look from the patients' points of view. We're constantly collecting information without being too intrusive."

"I see," murmured Nadir.

Daniel then explained technical details about brain scans and neuron manipulation. He spoke of functional magnetic resonance imaging combined with transcranial magnetic stimulation and how this information was fed into an enormous super computer. Nadir felt his eyes glaze over even as he desperately tried to comprehend what in the hell Daniel was talking about.

Gabby could probably sense his confusion. "Do you have any other questions?" she asked.

Nadir felt a headache coming on. "As far as you can tell, how is he? I mean, is he happy?"

"He's definitely much better," Daniel replied in his consistently optimistic tone. "It was difficult at first. Let me explain. When we get a new patient, they go to Section 2. That's a different System where we make sure we have their programming right, before we put them in Section 1 with the other patients. For example, with our paralyzed patients, we make sure they feel as though they can move. We ensure that pain is minimized."

"And for Erik? I'm guessing you fixed his face?" Erik had made Nadir promise that would be part of the deal. _They will make me handsome, won't they? I won't be a hideous freak anymore, right? Right, Nadir?_

Gabby spoke, "For Erik, the easiest part was redesigning his face. Then we addressed the addiction. But his mind still resisted us. So we played with various medications. But it wasn't until we suppressed his memories that it all came together for him."

Nadir warily nodded. "I guess that would make sense. I don't think Erik had one good memory in his head. He had no childhood. No family or friends. Nothing that makes life worth living. That's why I brought him here. I just…I hope this process hasn't been too painful for him."

Daniel replied, "It was uncomfortable. When we were first figuring out his brain." He smiled. "But everything is better now. I'm sure that, if Erik were here, he would agree that it was all worth it."

Nadir swallowed sickly. He glanced at his watch, suddenly wanting to get out of this building. "Am I supposed to be meeting with…?"

"Oh. Dave. Yes. I'll look for him." Gabby stood and rushed out of the room.

"Good luck with that," Daniel muttered. Then he whispered to Nadir, "Dave is kind of an asshole."

"Great," said Nadir.

Gabby spoke to someone just outside the door. "Just give Mr. Khan a moment of your time."

A much deeper voice replied, "I don't have time for this, Gabby. I have a meeting with our programmers in ten minutes, and I haven't prepared." Nadir assumed that was Dave.

"Please!" Gabby exclaimed. "He really wants to talk someone."

"Wasn't this Hope's thing?" Dave retorted. "Doesn't she need to deal with this?"

"Hope?" Nadir glanced at Daniel.

"Hope Ivey," Daniel replied. "She's the one who signed off on this. She's very hands on, even does patient mentoring. She's been traveling a lot, though."

The door opened abruptly. Gabby walked in and mouthed "Sorry" toward Nadir. A very annoyed middle-aged man followed her. He was dressed in an expensive black suit with a red tie. "This is Dave," she said, rushed. "He can chat for a second."

"How can I help you?" Dave asked, barely hiding his irritation. He took a seat and leaned forward.

"Are you even aware of the situation?" Nadir asked, sitting up straight.

"I...Gabby mentioned Patient 8765. The file on him is thin."

"That's because most of his info is confidential," she replied.

Dave glared at her. "So how am I supposed to help then?"

Nadir felt himself become irritated. "Well, you may have a legal situation with him. That's what I'm here to discuss."

"What sort of situation?" asked Dave. His cell phone rang, playing a 1970's disco melody. "Oh, wait. I have to get this."

Nadir frowned at Gabby as Dave chatted with someone about catering. "This is the best you could do?" Nadir asked.

"On such short notice, yes!" she replied.

"I'm not talking to him," said Nadir. "He doesn't know anything, and I'd like it to stay that way now."

Dave held the cell phone away from his face and declared, "I don't have time for this. Let Hope deal with her own pet projects." He stood up and marched out of the room, continuing his conversation. "No fish. It was dry last time..."

"I'm sorry," said Gabby to Nadir. "Dave was the only manager I could find who had even minimal knowledge about Erik."

"You're going to have do better!" Nadir snapped. "This is a serious situation."

Gabby turned toward Daniel. "Please give us a moment." Daniel nodded and left, glancing back once as he shut the door behind him. Gabby approached Nadir and spoke in a hushed voice, "What is so important? You're worried about the new governor?"

"It was my fault," Nadir whispered, a hand on his forehead. "I don't mean to take it out on you."

"What's your fault? What are you talking about?"

"I didn't think Erik was going to turn himself in. I didn't think I could take him down by myself. So I got others involved that night. Other police officers. A district attorney got word of it. We had to bribe people to keep them quiet. Under the previous governor, that was easy to do. But things have changed." Nadir felt the full weight of it. "Erik was a criminal, for hire and otherwise. He became a paranoid wreck due the damned drug that his former _employer_ got him hooked on. He was a danger to society, but I still wanted to save him. So, instead of due process, instead of a jury and a judge and a sentence to life in prison – I brought him here! I violated the entire rule of law."

Gabby turned a little white. "But I thought we covered our tracks. You said we did!"

"I know. But I'm starting to hear things. The new administration is coming down hard on everyone. I need to know if there's a way to get Erik out of this state before it's too late."

"Not quickly," said Gabby. "We can't just move him overnight."

"I know that. But how long would it take?"

"I don't know. At least a month. I'd have to ask." Gabby's face contorted as she finally grasped the seriousness of the situation. "We can't disconnect Erik! He's doing so well. It would be devastating to him. It would be absolutely…awful." She put a hand over her heart.

"I know. So help me figure this out. We may even have to get him out of this country."

"Oh my God. But this can't be as bad as you're saying. I'm sure SCI has everything covered. Erik will be safe."

Nadir whispered, "If you believe that - fine. But I'm not going to sleep well until I know it for sure. Are you?" She slowly shook her head. "If you care about Erik, help me."

"I'll try," Gabby whispered.

Nadir left quickly after that, zipping past Daniel who cheerfully told him to "have a great day."

* * *

 _He_ dreamt of a voice.

At first, it was a whisper at the back of his mind, barely noticeable. But it was becoming louder and more defined with each passing night. A voice, a young woman's voice, in the darkness. A flash of yellow hair.

Whenever he awoke, he would try to pinpoint the voice and the vision. Was she from a movie or a play he had seen?

She certainly wasn't a former date or girlfriend. He remembered all of those. The girl he had taken to prom. The girl he had met in his dorm during freshman year of college. He didn't feel much toward them now. They were distant memories. Sometimes it was strange how little he felt towards the people in his past.

But he did feel strongly toward that voice in his dreams. He would mentally snuggle up to it, his eyes closed in the early morning hours. It warmed him, made his skin tingle, delighted him.

And he daydreamed about it, too. Even as he was having a video conference at work with his mentor.

"Erik." Mrs. Ivey's voice broke into his thoughts. She stared at him from the computer screen. She was fifty or so with black eyes that matched her hair, which was carefully piled into a bun. Her skin was still smooth, only hints of wrinkles around her eyes and mouth. He had never met her in person, only through telecommunications.

"Yes?" Erik asked.

"I asked if you had read that paper."

"Yes," he stated. "About the, uh, the MAOA gene. I read it."

"Yes. The warrior gene. What'd you think?"

He had thought it was very boring. _Why the hell had he chosen this for his course of study?_ He didn't even remember making the decision. "I thought it was inconclusive. There are too many other factors."

"I agree," she said. "I'd like to move away from genes for a while. And maybe focus on more measurable properties. Testosterone, cortisol. Even if there is a genetic problem, it's influencing hormones and neurotransmitters."

"And environmental factors," he added. "I mean, we should explore those."

"We're leaving that alone for now," she stated with an uncompromising tone.

"Fine." He refrained from sounding too exasperated. Why did she always resist his research ideas?

"Everything else going well?" she asked with a bright smile. "Are you settling in just fine?"

"Yes."

"Have you made any friends?"

"Somewhat. There's a girl named Alice, and she is nice."

"Excellent. Well, you let me know if you need anything. I'll see you next week."

 _Next week._ Yes, it was Friday. He had a whole weekend to himself, and Erik planned to focus on his music. He felt invigorated with that realization. It was nearing 5 P.M. He switched off his computer and the lights in the laboratory and hurried home. All Friday night could be devoted music. Then all of Saturday morning and afternoon, too.

He was going to meet Alice and their friends for game night on Saturday.

That was fine. He liked being around them now and then because…well, it forced him to get out of his own head for a little while. His mind sometimes confused him to the point where he didn't want to think anymore. He would watch Alice and her friends interacted, feeling welcome yet out of place. Sometimes he could contribute to their conversations. They were nice enough. He had fun, so long as he didn't have to be around them all the time. Mrs. Ivey had told him that he was an introvert. That was likely accurate.

Sunday would also be for composing! Erik was determined to capture that voice and melody on the piano.

When he reached his one-bedroom apartment, Erik locked the door behind him and turned on the light. He threw down his backpack. He made himself a snack of tortilla chips and salsa, along with a can of soda. Sometimes he didn't even remember how he acquired food items. They were in his kitchen cabinet, so he ate them. It was the same with the two blue sofas in the living room. They must have come with the apartment, right?

He dove headfirst into his music, scribbling notes and measures and sharps and flats. He played the same parts over and over, trying to perfect it. He went to bed around midnight and was up by five. He ate a bowl of sweet, crunchy cereal and then continued his work.

His phone rang on Saturday afternoon. Erik reluctantly answered.

"Hi, honey. How are you?" The cheery voice greeted him.

"Hi, Mom," he replied, tearing his gaze away from his papers.

"What are you up to?"

"Composing," he stated.

"That's my son," she replied with a laugh. "Well, I hope you're getting out a little bit."

"Yes. I'm seeing friends tonight."

"Great! I hope you have fun."

"I will. They're nice." He paused and then asked, "Mom? Did I ever have a girlfriend or a female friend who was a singer?"

"Not that I can remember," she replied. "Why?"

"I don't know. I keep thinking of this voice. It's in my head, and I don't know who it is."

"Hm. No idea, sweetheart. I'm sure you'll remember."

"Yes. I wish I could. It's driving me crazy." It nearly was.

"Well, I just wanted to check in with you. Make sure everything is going well. I know it was a little lonely at first, moving out there all by yourself."

"Yes," he said. "But I'm okay."

"I know. I love you, honey. Have a good time tonight."

"I love you, too…Mom."

Erik hung up. Unlike the previous time, he refused to dwell on that conversation or the weird feeling in the pit of his stomach.

Back he went into his music, where the world finally seemed to make sense. Music was familiar and not confusing, like an old friend whom he actually cared about and remembered. Not like all the people he recalled and yet felt indifferent towards. Including his own mother. _How could he feel so little toward his own mother? She was so good to him, so encouraging and helpful and kind._ His apathy toward her upset him. Maybe he was still feeling unsettled from moving to a new place.

Yes, that must be it.

Erik fell asleep curled up in a ball beside the piano, the voice still circling in his head. A knock on his door woke him. Sunlight streamed through the cracks in the curtains. He squinted. What time was it? His back was sore, and he had red marks from the carpet all over his arms. Erik rubbed his eyes and answered the door. Alice stood there with a small frown on her face. He had one of his weird thoughts—

She looked very young for a moment, dressed in stretchy black pants and a pink t-shirt, her dark hair in a ponytail. White running shoes. She is young, he automatically thought. But that made no sense. He was twenty-three, and she was twenty-six.

He shook his head to clear the cobwebs. "Alice?"

"Hi, Erik." She gave him a short wave. "I just thought I'd check up on you. You didn't come to game night."

"Oh. It is Sunday? I'm sorry. I simply…I became involved with my composing, and I forgot. I'm sorry."

"Don't worry about it. I just wanted to make sure you were okay. We hadn't seen you in a while." Alice looked over his shoulder. Erik glanced behind him and felt embarrassed. Papers were scattered everywhere, messy notes scribbled all over them, some red and some black. "Wow. You have been busy."

"Yes. I have been trying to capture a song that I have in my head." Alice blinked. An idea occurred to him. Maybe he needed another set of ears. "Come in, Alice. I will play part of it, and I want your opinion." She slowly stepped inside, and he shut the door behind her. He pointed to one of the couches. "Please sit down."

"All right." With a nervous laugh, she took a slow seat, her hands in her lap.

"Okay," he said. "Listen." He slid behind the piano and began to play the slower piece. He had it perfectly memorized now. And not because he was overly fond of the song - but because of the voice behind it.

Halfway through, Erik stopped and glanced back. Alice was leaning forward, captivated. "That was beautiful," she said with a smile as she met his gaze. "It was like a...really elaborate, sort of darker version of _Unchained Melody_."

Eyes widening, Erik hopped to his feet. "What? What did you call it? You know it?"

"Don't you? It's from the 50's or the 60's. By the, uh, the something Brothers."

"No. A girl sings it," he argued, approaching her. "Not some sort of- of brothers!"

"No," Alice gently protested. "I'm pretty sure some guys sang it."

Erik felt himself getting unreasonably frustrated. "No! A girl sings this! I know a girl sings this." His heart beat quickly in his chest, and he could feel the hot flush in his cheeks. "I know it."

"Erik, it's okay." She stared up at him, obviously confused by his reaction. "Maybe you heard a woman cover it?"

"Cover it?" he dumbly asked. His mind swirled around and around.

"Sure. I mean, a girl can certainly sing that song. Even if the original singers were men."

"Yes," he murmured, rubbing his temple. "Yes, Alice. You're right. That's probably it." He paced. "But now I know it's a real song. I didn't make up that song. But why can't I remember who sang it? Why?" He sat on the piano bench and buried his face into his hands. "I don't understand."

"You don't understand what?" she asked.

"A lot of things," he admitted. "I can't even begin to explain."

"Erik." Alice stood and slowly approached him. "Why don't you get out of the house for a while? I'm going for a run on those trails I told you about. You can walk them, if you don't like running. But the top is pretty. And maybe it'll help you clear your head."

His hands dropped. He looked around his apartment. It seemed dark and dreary and now messy. Why wouldn't that voice stop invading his thoughts and sleep? It…she...the voice didn't always sing that song either. There were other melodies that he was trying to capture. Maybe, when he did, Alice could identify them, too.

And maybe he did need to get out of here for a little while. Before he lost his mind.

"I'll go with you," he said. "Except I don't know if I have the clothes for it."

"If not, we'll find you some."

He found some sweats and tennis shoes in his dresser drawers. His mother must have packed them for him. He didn't remember buying them.

He joined Alice outside. Even as the voice played in the back of his mind, a constant loop, Erik did enjoy the heat and warmth on his bare face. The combination of the voice and the sun created a sort of euphoria.

If only things hadn't taken a strange turn on their hike - his fault entirely - it might have been a good day.


	6. Chapter 6

Darker chapter warning. The themes of this story focus on the pain of living and what makes life worth living and what counts as life and what makes a person who they are. I won't answer all those questions for you. I don't know all the answers. But I hope this story explores it a little bit.

 **Thank you all. Please review if you have a moment.**

"Need any fresh clothes?" Raoul called from behind the door.

Christine was drying her long hair off with a big plush towel. She had just experienced one of the most luxurious warm showers of her life. "No, thanks," she replied. "I'll wear what I had on yesterday."

"Are you sure? You can keep whatever I give you."

"Thanks. But I'm okay." She didn't want to take any more from him.

God, what would it be like to have this kind of money? To be able to give people clothes and rooms without a second thought? Christine didn't even envy the material possessions that much. What she did envy was the security that Raoul had – the not having to worry about rent or the gas bill every month. The not having to fear a medical crisis or other emergency expense.

She dressed, cast one last glance at the beautiful room, and came downstairs. Raoul was waiting for her at the bottom. "Good morning," he greeted with a smile.

"Good morning. That was the best sleep of my life."

"Great! I'm glad you came."

"Me, too."

His eyes lit up. "Hey. Wanna go anywhere for breakfast? I know this place that makes the best Eggs Benedict."

"Thanks. But I'd better get home."

"Everything okay?"

"Yeah. My mom never texted me back. I want to check on her."

His expression grew serious, and he quickly nodded. "Sure. Let's get going."

Christine followed him toward the front door. "Oh!" She dug through her purse. "Wait. I forgot my phone. I left it on the nightstand. I'll be right back." She ran upstairs to retrieve it.

A memory returned to her. From about eighteen months ago. She had been leaving the theater after work, stepping outside into a cool autumn evening. Christine had realized that she had left her phone inside, probably setting it down while helping with a prop. Annoyed at herself, she had run back into the nearly empty theater and begun to search. She had looked around pieces of scenery and bundles of wires, growing more frustrated.

Suddenly, she'd had that feeling of being watched. This time, though, the sensation was not her imagination or a ghost. Someone had spoken to her from high above.

"Your phone is beside the castle."

Startled, she had looked up. The voice had belonged to a man, and it was so very beautiful. Haunting almost. A rich tenor that echoed over the auditorium and the stage. She had shivered. "Who's there?"

There had been a pause. "A boring electrician repairing the lights. Your phone is beside the castle."

She had squinted, trying to see him, feeling nervous and intrigued. Finally, she had looked down and realized that he was referring to a half-painted cardboard castle. Keeping an eye on her surroundings, Christine had walked toward the piece of scenery. Sure enough, there was her phone, lying right beside the edge of it. She had picked it up. She had looked around one last time, heart pounding in her chest.

No one was around. "Thank you, Mr. Electrician! I'm sure you're not that boring!" she had called into the silence, trying to ease the tension.

To her disappointment, he hadn't replied. She had wanted to hear that voice one more time.

"Christine? Are you okay?" Raoul's voice called to her from downstairs.

She was holding her phone, staring at the wall, daydreaming. An uneasiness came over her, both from the present and the past, but she brushed it aside. "I'm coming!" she called, running out of the room and back down the stairs.

"I thought you got lost up there," said Raoul with a grin.

"Almost!" His warmth put her at ease again.

It was cloudy that morning, and she wondered if more snow was on the way. "I can't wait for spring," she murmured. "And summer."

"Yeah, me too. I really want to go camping."

"Yeah? I did that a couple times with my dad."

"Me, too. My dad and brother. But they're too busy now to have fun." He turned to her. "Hey, if you're into it, we could go on an overnight trip. I mean, you know, as friends. Or you could bring someone. I could, too. If you want. I mean-" He turned a little red and stumbled over his words. "That would be fun."

"Maybe. Yeah." She wondered if they would even be friends by then. There was such a huge gap in wealth between them. This wasn't the 1700's where stuff like that mattered as much. Did Cinderella ever feel like this? But it was still awkward.

She stared out the window at old brick buildings and boarded up windows. They drove past the empty lot, abandoned stadium, and memorial with thirty-six names listed. It made the area seemed even more dismal. Why was that stadium still-?

An idea occurred to her, and she looked at Raoul with wide eyes. Christine hoped it wasn't in bad taste. "What about there for the parking garage?" She pointed. "It should be close enough to the shopping center." Christine quickly added, "They shouldn't tear down the memorial. That should stay up forever. But what about where the stadium is?"

Raoul slowed the car to the side of the street and followed her gaze. "Huh. Yeah, I almost don't notice it anymore. It's an eyesore. Why is it still here?"

"I was in seventh grade when it happened. We were in the same district, so they made our school go into lockdown for three hours."

"I was at private school. But I remember it being all over the news for a month." He titled his head. "It's definitely an idea. I mean, it's a little creepy."

"If it's too morbid, forget I said it."

"No, you're right," he replied, jaw clenched with determination. "Why should that stadium sit there forever? Other places where stuff like that happened were either torn down or remodeled. Now that sick freak has this, like, monument dedicated to him. It should be torn down."

That _sick freak_ was Nicholas Vaughan. She didn't remember much, just a photo of him that the media had used, probably a yearbook picture. He had been blonde with glassy green eyes. There had been the hint of a smirk on his face, a coldness. When she was twelve, he had seemed extra sinister. It was hard to believe that he had only been seventeen when he had pulled off his massacre. Now he was spending life in a maximum security prison.

"I say we ask," said Raoul, driving forward again. "Why should your theater be torn down when this stupid thing stays up? You're exactly right. I think my dad will agree with you."

"Thanks," she murmured. Maybe she had stumbled upon a good idea.

Within ten minutes, she had forgotten all about it.

She gave Raoul further directions to her apartment and felt embarrassed as their surroundings grew more run-down. Someone had recently spray painted the concrete walls with graphic terms for genitalia. Raoul looked from side to side with a small frown. Christine stared at her hands.

"Here we are," she said, keeping her mortification out of her voice.

He slowed and pulled up to the apartments. "Do you want me to stay here while you make sure everything is okay?"

"Um. Maybe just for a second. I'll text you when I'm sure."

"Cool."

She leaned over and hugged him again. "Thanks for everything."

"Sure! I'll keep in touch. I'll let you know what my dad thinks about your awesome idea."

"Thanks, Raoul. You take care."

She slowly walked to the door, already missing the warmth of his car. Christine unlocked it, jiggling the key a few times. She stepped inside. The television was off. Denise wasn't in the living room. Christine's half-filled trash bag lay in the center, some of the papers spilling out. The rest of the mess was untouched. She heard the television in her mother's bedroom. "Hello? Mom?" She didn't get a response. Her heartbeat quickened. She quickly walked forward and glanced inside Denise's bedroom. Just the usual mess and laughter on the T.V. "Mom! Where are you?"

Christine looked in her bedroom. It was also untouched. Where else? Had Denise gone out?

The bathroom light was on. The door was about three-fourths of the way closed. The creeping feeling of fear intensified. "Mom!" she hoarsely cried, running forward. Christine started to push the bathroom door open. "Mo-" She froze and grabbed the edge of the door to keep herself from keeling over.

A bare foot poked out from behind the wall. Attached to a white leg. That moment would stick in her head for the rest of her life. That horrific foot. Her mother lying on the pale pink bathroom rugs, lifeless.

She screamed. Dizzy, she sunk to the floor. She didn't remember what happened next except that she must have dialed 911. Because the police arrived first. And then the paramedics.

Somehow, Raoul knew to come inside and find her. He was with her the entire day. He was her voice when she couldn't speak. And her ears when she couldn't understand what they were telling her. _Planned this for some time. Coma. Poor prognosis. Does she have any other relatives? You should start calling them._ His arms held her up when she needed to walk. "I've got you," he said over and over through the cacophony of sirens and unfamiliar voices. "I've got you."

* * *

"Here we are," said Alice, pointing forward with a grin.

Erik looked. A dirt trail branched off from the sidewalk and headed upwards between deciduous trees. The leaves rustled in the wind, and he could smell the moist greenness. Birds twittered.

"Are you walking or running?" she asked.

"I'll run." He felt like he had energy to burn.

"All right then. On your mark."

He sensed a surge of adrenaline as he prepared for what had become a competition. He put one foot forward and bent his knee, elbows bent and fists clenched.

"Get set," said Alice.

"I am set," he replied.

She laughed and shouted, "Go!"

Erik sprinted forward. He was a little surprised by how fast he moved, as he didn't remember being all that athletic in high school. The wind whipped against his face, and it was the best feeling. The colors, greens and browns and the blue of the sky, streamed past him in a blur. Soon, he was ahead of her.

Alice called from far behind, "You're going to get tired doing that!"

He didn't care. This was exhilarating. Up and up he went, legs flying beneath him. The sunlight created strange shadows as it bent through the branches and the leaves. Up and up.

Now everything was distorted. The trees blended together and became towering buildings. The sky grew darker so that it looked like a starless night. He could still hear his breath, but it sounded different. Harsher. Angrier. Contained. Because something was covering his face. Or at least it felt like that.

Perhaps he should have stopped then, but it no longer felt like his legs were his own. He flew down a street late at night. Shadowy figures passed him. Cars drove by, their headlights dim.

One of the shadows dropped down right in front of him.

Erik gasped.

The shadow solidified. It hung there and took the shape of a human being.

A swaying corpse. Dead brown eyes, the whites yellowed. A mouth hanging open and a tongue flopping out and to the side. Ashen skin. A bearded dead man.

A scream was stuck in the back of Erik's throat. He tried to run from the corpse, but it followed, always hanging in front of him, just out of reach.

Erik finally turned around to escape it.

That direction was even worse.

Another corpse was grinning at him. A corpse with no nose and hollowed out eyes, half-rotted. But this one was alive. It laughed madly through thin and brittle lips.

He was trapped between them, the dead corpse and the living corpse. Neither would let him leave.

Erik fell to his knees, clutching his head. He closed his eyes but still saw the visions. He rocked back and forth.

A hand on his shoulder.

"Don't touch me!" he snapped through gritted teeth, unaware of whom he was even talking to.

"Erik." A voice filled with concern. "Erik, are you okay?"

He slowly opened his eyes and looked up. The buildings and street had disappeared. There was no dead corpse or living corpse. No murder. Just trees and sunlight and…and Alice. She knelt beside him.

"I am sorry," he whispered. His breath came out in short gasps, and his heart continued to pound.

"Don't be sorry," she said. "You were far up ahead. You were going so fast. And then I saw you fall. Did you trip?"

"I…" He swallowed. "I think so. I…" Erik continued to look around. "That must have…I don't know."

"Do you want to go back?"

"No," he replied after a moment. "Let's continue. Please."

"All right," she said with hesitancy. "Let's go slowly, okay? I mean, you obviously win the race. You're crazy fast." She eyed him. "So there's no need to be Mr. Competitive against poor, slow Alice. Okay?"

"Okay." He managed a shaky chuckle. "I won't be Mr. Competitive."

It looked like she was going to offer him a hand, to help him up, but then she retracted it. He felt stung and confused. More than he should have. Then Erik remembered. He had explicitly told her not touch him, and Alice was simply obeying.

Why had he made that command? He wanted to make it right. Erik remembered what the other girl, Leigh, had done. Leigh with the yellow hair…Yellow hair like the Voice.

He stood up on his own. "High five?" he asked, slowly holding up his hand.

Alice laughed and slapped it with no hesitation. That made him feel better. "What are we high fiving?" she asked.

"Running for pleasure," he replied.

"Jogging for pleasure," she corrected him. "We're going _slow_."

And they did. They jogged upwards together, and the visions didn't haunt him any longer.

"We're almost at the top. Let's go this way. I think you'll like it." She pointed to the left where there was another less defined path and a small thicket of trees. He followed her through them, moving branches and bushes out of the way. There were surprisingly few insects out here.

He heard water babbling. Alice stopped walking, so Erik looked up. They were in a clearing. There was a narrow stream with smooth grey rocks poking out of it. After flowing over a small waterfall, the river disappeared around a bend. He got closer and saw orange fish swimming about. A couple of turtles were perched on the rocks, sunning themselves. Just the right amount of sunlight crept through the trees, warming the spot. "What do you think?" she asked.

"It's so perfect that it's almost like someone painted it," he replied. Alice stared at him with a strange expression on her face, as though she wanted to say something. "What? Do you not agree?"

"No, I agree." Alice looked away. "It's exactly like that. Like a painted picture." She sat down and lay on her back atop a grassy spot about three feet away, her hands behind her head. He walked over and mimicked her.

Yet even as he tried to find peace in this perfect place, the stream gurgling behind him, Erik felt too many thoughts swimming through his head. The visions of death. The voice. The girl. Part of him wanted to return to his piano right now and capture her voice. His music felt like the closest he would ever get to her. His dream girl. His ghost.

And part of him wanted to stay here forever and escape the shadows that always followed him.

"Erik?" Her voice was soft. He barely heard her.

"Yes, Alice?"

"Are you okay here?"

"What?"

"Are you okay? Do you feel happy here?"

He hesitated. "Sometimes. But lately I feel like more things are wrong than right."

"What do you mean?"

Maybe it was the setting that made him open up. Or maybe he was tired of dealing with all this on his own. "Honestly, there are times when I feel like the past that I remember never happened. The people I knew don't mean anything to me. And yet this Voice means everything. But I don't even know who she is. How does that make any sense? How could I feel so little toward my family and feel so much toward a woman who might not even be real?" Alice didn't reply. Erik sat up and looked at her. She was staring at the sky with another odd expression. She looked at him. Their eyes met, and he suddenly wondered - "Alice? Do you know something? Is there something that you know about me?"

She visibly swallowed and looked away. "No. What do you mean?"

But he could hear the tremble of deception in her voice. "You know something. I know you do. What is it?"

"I don't."

"You do!" He half-crawled toward her and desperately asked, "What do you know?"

Alice sat up. She closed her eyes and inhaled. She opened her eyes and whispered, "Let's talk again some other time, okay? Come over to my apartment maybe later this week. Okay?"

"Why not here?" he asked.

"Because…" Alice looked toward the sky. So did Erik. He didn't see anything except tree branches against a blueness. "I'd rather be at home."

"But…" Erik sighed. "Fine."

They stayed there a little longer and then walked back down the trail together. She squeezed his shoulder before she left him at his apartment. "We'll talk soon, okay?"

"Okay."

He watched her go and then returned to his music for the rest of the afternoon, returned to the magical voice and the melody. Then he went to bed, thinking that he would get up early enough, before work, to continue his composing.

But, when Erik woke up, everything seemed different.

The voice. The melody. The tingle in his skin as he thought of that girl. He had nearly forgotten all of it. He stared at the sheets of music that covered his living room, wondering what he had been doing all weekend. It seemed silly now. It seemed…unimportant.

Only a faint tickle at the back of his brain, a whisper of the Voice, remained with him.

* * *

From: GG775

To: [Private]

Hi Nadir,

With all the recent concerns, I'm writing to you from what should be a very secure e-mail address. Daniel helped me set it up. I'll still be discreet.

I've arranged for you to have a telephone conference with Hope. She's still overseas but knows that you want to talk to her. I told her that you'd be uncomfortable doing it over the phone, given the situation. Maybe you can at least give her a basic understanding or convey urgency. As soon as she's back in the states, you two can have a meeting.

I also wanted to give you a progress update. E was a little agitated over the past couple of days, and we were afraid he might start remembering things. Daniel made some drastic programming changes. Unfortunately, they'll negatively affect E's creativity, something we were originally hoping to avoid, but they were necessary for his mental wellbeing. We also upped his antianxiety medication. I'll let you know in a week if he's doing better.

Fondly,

G.G.

* * *

Alice had felt anxious all that week after her hiking trip with Erik. Her mind went back and forth. Should she tell him? Should she not? What was in his best interest?

What was in _her_ best interest? If she told Erik the truth, SCI might disconnect her. And then she'd really be screwed. She was angry at SCI for putting her in this situation.

She was also concerned that Erik might try to contact her before she'd made her decision. But he didn't. Alice didn't see Erik all that week. Then she started to worry about him again. Was he sitting in the dark with his music scattered all around him, trying to remember a girl who had probably existed in his _Before._ That made the most sense regarding whom the girl might be. God, what a mess.

On Friday night, she sat with her friends at their usual spot. Alice wasn't the only one in a bad mood. Leigh seemed kind of upset. Corey also looked disconcerted. So much so that Ken finally asked, "Why so quiet, man? You look like someone ran over your favorite puppy."

"Ugh," muttered Leigh. "Do you really have to say that?"

"Sorry," said Ken, subtly rolling his eyes at her.

Corey glanced over both shoulders. He lowered his voice. "All right. I'll tell you. But stay quiet about it. It's not confidential, but SCI doesn't want everyone worrying over nothing." He again looked around the room. No one was watching them. "I had something weird happen to me at home. My…real home."

"What's up?" Ken asked.

"So after we played volleyball, I was done with my shift in the System. I was pretty tired when I woke up. I always am when I come out of here. It takes some time to adjust. I showered at SCI and put on some clothes, took my time before I grabbed an Uber. There's no way I'm driving when I'm that fuzzy-headed. So I got home at about eight and went straight to bed. I slept in until ten. Got up. Took my roommate's dog out."

"This is all really fascinating," joked Ken.

"I'm getting there!" said Corey with a scowl. "Anyway, there's this guy outside, hanging around the driveway. He's probably about forty-five. Dressed pretty nicely, like he's at work. I asked him if I could help him. He asked me where I worked. I was honest. He asked me what I did here. I told him. I have no idea what he's try to get at, right? He asks me if I keep track of the people who come here, the patients. I told him that's not my job. He asks if I remember all the new patients here going back for about a year. I told him there's been a couple hundred new people. So, no, I have no idea what everyone's name is. And I told him that patient info is confidential. The guy was kind of a jerk after that, threatening that he could come back with a warrant. I was like, 'Go ahead and look around, dude. I don't know anything. I play around in the System and pretend I'm working.'" They all laughed uneasily. "He left after that in a black car. But what the hell?"

"What could he have wanted?" Alice asked.

"No idea. But I told my supervisor," Corey replied. "He thought maybe it was a journalist pretending to be a cop. Or a competitor trying to get company secrets. Next time I'm not saying anything."

"Well, let us know if something else happens," said Ken.

"I will," said Corey. He glanced around the table. "I look out for you guys. I'm closer to you than anyone out there, you know?"

"Aawww," Leigh and Alice said in unison. Leigh was sitting right next to him and put an arm around Corey's shoulders. "We love you, too!" Leigh exclaimed. Corey blushed, and they all laughed again.

A moment of silence passed as they sipped their drinks. Leigh softly broke it. "So I have a wake up in two weeks. It'll last two days," she murmured. Now Alice understood why she had seemed a little down.

"That's always cool," said Ken. "It's good to see the family, right?"

"Yeah. I miss them. But I don't know if it's worth it sometimes."

"I know," said Alice. "But we have to see them, right? They're our parents."

"I know," said Leigh. "It's still hard."

Leigh Brown was here because of a car crash. She had been in the backseat, going to a college house party with three of her friends. Alice didn't know all the details. Just that the car had spun out of control, caught fire, and that Leigh had been the only survivor. In the agonizing days afterward, Leigh had wished for death, too.

Her father was a bigwig in Silicon Valley, and Leigh had led a fairly charmed life before that day. Mr. Brown must have taken one look at her and realized that his daughter's life would never be the same. Obviously not the warm and fuzzy type, he had suddenly declared in the middle of her physical therapy, "That's enough of this bullshit." Mr. Brown had made a call to SCI, donated an ungodly sum of money, and that had been it. Leigh had a new home.

"Well," said Ken, putting an arm around Leigh's shoulders. "You only have to do it once a year."

Leigh gave him a watery smile. "Right." She then looked at Alice. "When do you wake up next? Hasn't it been a while?"

"Alice is already awake."

They all jumped and turned around on their stools. Erik was standing behind them.

Ken saved them. "Yeah. It was a joke. Alice was daydreaming again, and we wanted her to wake up. Alice in Wonderland, right?"

"I haven't heard that one before," said Alice, sarcastically.

Erik laughed. "All right then." He took a seat beside them.

"Hey. Aren't you going to play for us?" asked Corey.

"Not today," said Erik.

Alice chimed in, "You should play your version of _Unchained Melody_ for them. It was gorgeous. I'd love to hear it again."

Erik sharply glanced at her. "No. I don't want to. I barely remember it."

"What?" Her mouth fell open "But -"

"I don't want to play," he stated, his shoulders tensing. "I don't feel like it tonight."

An uncomfortable silence followed. Once again, Ken saved them. "Damn right. Erik's sole purpose isn't to entertain us. Let's buy him a drink and let him chill."

They all murmured in agreement, and Erik settled in. They talked about research, and he contributed to the conversation, discussing his lab results. He smiled at times and laughed at jokes. He seemed…okay.

Yet Alice felt unsettled. Because something about Erik had obviously changed. Maybe for the better - in that he seemed more secure in this world. He fit in. He was easier to talk to. Less guarded.

But also for the worse. She noticed it over the next few weeks. He cared less about his music. He lost his passion and his spark. And the social awkwardness that Alice had found cute. He was not the same person she had met.

Alice had the sinking feeling that these changes were not natural. Yet she never told him the truth. He never asked. It was as though Erik had forgotten their conversation beside the mountain stream.

Erik was happier, Alice told herself. That was what mattered, right?

Yet happiness built on a tower of lies is fragile.

As fragile as the glass that shattered in her kitchen on the day that tower came crashing down.


	7. Chapter 7

I know you're all eager for the moment when everything changes, and I promise it's coming. It should start at the end of Chapter 8. And Chapter 9 will takes us all the way.

 **Read and Review!**

Nadir received a phone call three days after seeing Gabby's e-mail. It was about 2 PM on a Wednesday afternoon. He had been surfing the web, browsing over jobs. Maybe freelancing as a technical writer. He knew a lot about personal and corporate security systems. He could also work as a security guard, but the thought of it bored him. The bottom line was that he needed a life beyond Erik, once this was all figured out.

 _If_ it was all figured out.

His cell phone rang. He didn't recognize the number but answered anyway. "Hello?"

"Hello," said a feminine voice. "Is this Mr. Khan?"

"Yes. Who is this?"

"This is Hope Ivey. How are you?"

 _Finally. Someone who could help._ "I'm fine. How are you, Mrs. Ivey?"

"Please. Call me Hope."

"Sure. That's an optimistic name." He chuckled.

"Well, I need all the optimism I can get," she replied with a light laugh. "Gabby said you wanted to talk to me?"

"I definitely do. Gabby knew you would be aware of the circumstances. I don't want to explain much over the phone…"

"Yes, she did say that. And, yes, I understand the circumstances somewhat. You're worried that…" She paused. Nadir wasn't sure if she was trying to be discreet or if she didn't have as much information as he'd hoped. "You're worried about the patient's background."

"Yes." Nadir released a breath. "Exactly. I thought Hornsby would be reelected. He was up in the polls by ten points. Then, when Chagny won, I assumed his campaign talk was bluster. Politicians are always making promises, right? Not this time."

"I see. So what are you proposing?" she asked.

He really didn't want to discuss this on the phone. But time was growing shorter, and risks had to be taken. "I'm proposing that you move your operations. Out of the state at least. Maybe someplace rural? Another country? An island? The moon? Heh. Kidding about those last two, but you get my meaning."

She didn't speak for several seconds. "Nadir, I don't know if you understand the nature of SCI. It's very centralized right now. Now my associates and I are speaking with officials in other countries to see if they want more involvement with the technology. Some of them do. Japan is excited about it. But it'll take a long time to expand. We're either going to have to set up an identical system in these places, which will take at least a year. Or we're going to have to put our Systems on a very complex network, which would be cheaper and require less infrastructure. I have people researching that right now. We're worried that the network would be vulnerable to hackers, so it'll also be a long process. Do you understand?"

His stomach plunged as his suspicions were confirmed. "You're saying my request isn't feasible."

"It's feasible. But it will take time."

Nadir swallowed and tried to stay on course. "What's the absolute fastest it could be done?"

"In another state? I don't know. If we devoted a ton of resources, maybe two or three months."

"Then do it. If that's the best you can do, do it! If you don't…"

"If I don't, what?" Hope asked with the slightest edge.

Nadir felt his chest tighten as he replied, "If this situation gets too dangerous, I'll pull him out myself."

Hope scoffed. "You can't be serious. You won't. When you handed Erik over to SCI, you agreed not to get in the way of the treatment. That was part of the deal."

"Don't you understand?" Nadir asked with disbelief. He stood up and paced around his living room. "If I don't get in the way, someone else will. Help me, for God's sake. I'm on your side. At least I thought I was. I want the same thing as you do, right?"

"Yes." Her voice grew kind again. "Of course. And that's why I don't want you to do anything reckless. I care very much about him. I mentor him myself."

"You do?"

"Yes. I can link into the System remotely. He can see my face on a screen, and I can see his. Oh! Are you near a computer? I'll show you something."

"I am." Nadir sat at his desk in front of the open laptop. "What are you going to show me?"

"Give me an e-mail address."

He did so, his stomach flip-flopping. He didn't know what he expected to see. His e-mail dinged, so he clicked on the newest message. The subject line said: _Open the Attachment._ "You're not sending me a virus, are you?" he nervously joked. Hand shaking, Nadir opened it. He stared as a photograph of a young man popped up. "I don't understand," he said. His brain couldn't make the connection.

"That's a picture of Erik. I took one a couple weeks back, like a screenshot while I was talking to him. Just to have. I have a computer program that can translate data from the System into images that are viewable from our side. Does that make sense? " Silence. "Nadir? Are you still there?"

"Yes." He didn't want her to hear the choke in his voice. "Oh, God." Nadir reached out and touched the photo with an index finger, leaving an oily print on the screen.

"Are you okay?"

"Yes. I'm just fine." He looked away with a sharp intake of breath, more certain now than ever that something had to be done. "How soon can you get here to help me?"

"A week. Give me a week to fly back. Then it'll take time to set everything up. I'll involve you in all the meetings. Does that sound good?"

"Yes. Thank you, Hope. You've given me some."

"Huh?"

"Never mind," he murmured. They soon hung up.

It took her a week and a half to come back. There was a moderate earthquake near Tokyo that delayed her flight. The days ticked by. Days that Nadir was forced to look at that picture, to realize what might be coming and what might be lost, and to feel increasingly helpless.

* * *

Her mother held on for three days before passing away. Denise never woke up. Christine sat by her side in the sterile white hospital room, sometimes taking her icy hand, leaving only to buy a coffee or small meal that went uneaten.

There had been a short note on the back of the paper that had threatened to evict them.

 _Christine,_

 _I can't do this any longer. I can't, Baby Girl. I want to be with your father again. I can still smell his cologne. That's why I never threw any of his things away. I think I held onto everything to hold onto him. And there's no coming back now for me. I'm in so much pain, and I'm too tired. Each day stretches out endlessly, and I don't want this life anymore. It's not your fault. Please know that. I hope you're stronger than me. I think you will be. You were more like your father._

 _I love you always,_

 _Mom_

Christine had broken down into sobs after reading that. Maybe she should have been glad that her mother had specifically said that it wasn't her fault, and that she loved her. But Christine still found the letter dismissive, as though Denise hadn't given much thought to the pain this would cause her daughter. As though Christine hadn't been enough to live for.

There wasn't a funeral service. Just a viewing and a burial. Denise didn't have close family. Her childhood has been rough, and she had very distant relationships with her siblings. Denise had also alienated her few friends after plunging into depression, refusing to visit with them. Aunt Jackie offered to fly up there, despite being busy with work. Christine told her she didn't have to come. Within a few days, Christine received a sympathy card in the mail with a thousand dollars. Aunt Jackie had written on the card: "For whatever you may need right now."

Christine used that and savings to cover what costs she could. Raoul graciously helped with the rest, so that her father and mother could have graves beside each other.

Thirty minutes after the burial, she knelt in front of the two headstones, one clearly more worn. They were both covered by fresh flowers. It was a sunny day, a hint of warmth in the air that signaled spring. "Please give me a moment," she told Raoul, who had stood beside her the entire time.

"Sure. I'll be right over here."

She bowed her head and closed her eyes. "Now you're both gone," she murmured. "I didn't expect to be an orphan at twenty-one. I thought you'd be around for my wedding and for grandchildren…" Christine's voice caught. She brushed the tears from her eyes. "But I guess not. I guess you'll be watching from somewhere else." She took some flower petals from both their graves.

She had a pressed book of flowers. From her parents when they had gifted her bouquets for various accomplishments like graduation. A couple from old middle school and high school sweethearts. Then there were some mystery flowers.

She had performed in several small roles at the theater. Three times, someone had bought her a bouquet of red roses in an elegant vase. They had always awaited her on a table offstage, and her coworkers alerted her to them. The first bouquet had come with a card that said:

 _To the lovely Christine Daae,_

 _Your voice makes the angels weep with joy. Your beauty is unmatched._

 _Sincerely,_

 _An Admirer_

The two other mystery bouquets didn't have a card. Her father had been deceased at the time, so the roses couldn't have been from him. She had never found out who her secret admirer was, but she had kept many of the rose petals for her book.

Still kneeling at the grave, Christine stared at the pink and white petals in her hand. The last year had really been the loneliest. After her father passed away, she had still sensed that ghostly presence. And then it had disappeared, too. She had sung another small role about six months ago and received no mystery flowers. All she had had were her distant, depressed mother and a few acquaintances from the theater and community college.

Now she had Raoul. She looked back at him, standing there with his hands in his coat pockets, patiently waiting. He had been so good to her. Right after her mother died at the hospital, Christine had exclaimed, through breathless sobs, "I shouldn't have left her alone that night! I should have tried harder to get her help!"

"You can't think that way," Raoul had said, wrapping his arms around her. "She had been planning this. She was probably waiting for you to leave. There was nothing you could have done."

"But I should have made her get help a long time ago! I should have done something!"

He had replied, "I don't agree with my dad on everything. A lot, actually. But there is something he says that I do agree with. And that is - you can only help someone if they want help. I think that's right. Your mom didn't want help, Christine. And that wasn't your fault. Denise told you it wasn't."

As Christine stood and brushed the dry grass from her black skirt, she didn't know what she believed. Had there been some way to save her poor mother? Maybe she would never know. "Goodbye," she murmured to the headstones. "I love you."

She slowly walked back to Raoul's side, and he put a hand against her back, leading her to the car. She climbed inside and folded her hands. "I don't even know what to do now," she murmured as he started the ignition. She had a headache from crying so much.

"Well, here are my thoughts. Tell me if you don't agree, okay?" She nodded. "When you're ready, get whatever you want out of your mother's place. Anything you want to keep or save. We'll hire someone else to clean the rest out so you don't have to do that. Then we'll find you a better apartment to live in. Someplace safer and closer to where you go to school. Does that work?"

"Yeah. But I don't know if I can afford-"

"Pay whatever you can. I don't care if it's a dollar, okay? Just get back on your feet."

"You've already given me so much."

"It's not much at all," he replied and seemed sincere. Maybe it wasn't to him. Maybe thousands of dollars seemed like pennies to Raoul Chagny.

"Thank you," she whispered.

"You can keep staying at the townhouse until we find you somewhere else. Unless you'd feel more comfortable at a hotel?"

"No, the townhouse is fine. It's wonderful."

They stopped by her mother's apartment so that she could pick up some more pajamas and clothing. Christine ran through as fast as she could, not wanting to think about that awful bathroom or anything in there. It was like a dark, dreary, stinking pit of misery. A neighbor had been kind enough to care for the cranky cats. Christine threw what she wanted into a suitcase and escaped.

When they returned to the townhouse, where Christine had stayed since her mother died, Raoul asked if she needed anything else.

"I just want to sleep," she honestly replied. "I'm exhausted."

"Sure," said Raoul. "Get some rest. I'll order something in for dinner."

She gave him a grateful close-lipped smile and then went into the bedroom. She left the door cracked open, crawled into the enormous bed, and fell onto the pillow. Christine slept deeply and dreamlessly, a dull ache lingering in her chest. She was awoken by talking downstairs. Raoul was speaking to someone who had a very deep voice. That person sounded annoyed. And also a little familiar.

Christine sat straight up as it sank in, her tangled hair falling into her damp face. _Oh, God._

The Governor was downstairs! And he didn't sound very happy. Christine climbed out of bed, trying to make as little noise as possible, and tiptoed to the door to listen.

"…out within a week," Raoul finished his sentence.

"Make sure of it. I have a Senator and his family coming out here in a month. I want the place cleaned and ready for them."

"Why can't they stay in the mansion?"

"Because it's going to be crowded enough that weekend as it is. They're staying here. This isn't your personal guesthouse."

"I hear you," said Raoul, his tone annoyed. "We'll be out, okay? I wanted Christine to stay somewhere nice. She's been through hell. I told you all this."

"Fine. But I hope you're being careful with that girl. I don't want to see anything in the tabloids. Use condoms."

Christine flinched and felt her face burn.

"Jesus Christ, Dad!" Raoul snapped in a hushed voice. "Keep it down. One, we're friends. Two, I'm not Phillip. Three - having _you_ say that was gross."

"Just be careful," Governor Chagny replied. "She's obviously from the rough side of town. Don't get taken advantage of. I've already had one reporter ask me whom my son was spotted with."

"What'd you tell them?" Raoul asked.

"That you're an adult, and I stay out of your personal life. So prove me right. Act like an adult."

"I am! I'm helping her get through a tragedy. Isn't that what an adult would do?"

"Be careful."

"Ugh," Raoul groaned. A pause. "So did you check into the stadium?"

"Briefly," Governor Chagny replied. "Someone owns that property."

"Really?" Raoul sounded disappointed. She felt the same, although her mother's death made it all seem less important.

"Yes," the Governor continued. "Apparently, they've been fighting to keep it for a while, promising to do something with it."

"Damn. Is there anyway they'd sell it?"

"I don't know." Governor Chagny sounded tired. "Look, Raoul, I have a lot on my plate right now. I don't have time to deal with that. I'm sorry."

"What's going on?"

"What isn't going on? There's a budget shortfall that the legislature wants to ignore. Corruption. Possibly in law enforcement and the courts. I might as well warn you. Things could be tense over the next couple of months. There will be police raids. And there are going to be some people out there who really don't like me. You might want to get security."

"I'll think about it," muttered Raoul.

At that point, Christine carefully came out of the bedroom. She peeked over the polished railing of the staircase to get a look at him. Governor Chagny was just as intimidating in person as he appeared on television, tall and broad-shouldered with a full head of grey hair and a strong jaw. Not wanting to be seen, she quickly backed up.

The conversation became less interesting after that. They chatted about what Raoul's brother was up to. Then Raoul's plans for the fall; he would be going back to school. When they started talking about golf, Christine left the doorway and crawled back into bed. She curled up into a ball and closed her eyes, feeling less welcome there.

Some time must have passed. Half-asleep, she heard the door squeak and opened her eyes. Raoul stuck his head into the bedroom.

"Hey," he said. "I didn't mean to wake you up. I just wanted to see how you were doing."

"I'm okay." She sat up. "Mostly awake."

"My dad was here a second ago. He's kind of loud."

"I heard," she admitted.

Raoul looked embarrassed. "Everything?"

"A lot. And I was wondering -"

"Oh, God," he interrupted. "I'm sorry. Please ignore that. It's so embarrassing. Phillip had this girlfriend who had a pregnancy scare. And everyone freaked out. So my dad is paranoid about that stuff. And-"

"Actually, I was wondering about the security thing," she blurted out before they both turned redder than fresh tomatoes.

"Oh. Oh…that." Raoul looked relieved and waved his hand to the side dismissively. "He's always saying that. I mean, people don't like him. But there's nothing to worry about. Just politics as usual."

"That's good. I wanted to make sure you were safe."

"Oh, yeah. He can be a little overcautious." Raoul didn't seem worried at all, so she wasn't either. He also reassured her that they would find a great place for her to live before his father kicked them out of the townhouse. "Just ignore him," Raoul said.

Despite the awfulness of that week, Christine felt safe there, even though she knew it was only temporary. Raoul ordered Chinese food, and they watched a comedy on his giant television.

And the world seemed a little less terrible.

* * *

Erik yawned. It was the middle of a lazy afternoon, a Sunday.

He lay upside down on his couch, his legs dangling over the top cushion and his arms stretched out at his sides. Saturday had been nice. He had met his friends at the park for badminton, gone to a barbecue with them, come home, and watched television until bedtime.

Still upside down, his gaze finally settled on the piano. The stacks of music were neatly piled around it and no longer scattered all over the living room. He hadn't touched the instrument all week, focusing on his work instead. He'd had some good lab results, and his mentor had been pleased with him.

Mrs. Ivey had checked in with him again, asking how he was getting along with everyone. Erik had told her that everything was fine, although he did occasionally feel like he was missing something. "It is kind of this feeling of dullness," he had explained, leaning back into his chair. "What do you call it? Ennui."

"Hm. Erik, if you don't mind me asking," Mrs. Ivey gently began, "have you thought about dating? The girls here are very nice. And cute." She had winked at him. "Maybe that would make you feel better."

He had mumbled a reply, "I'll think about that."

 _Dating._ When did he last have a girlfriend? College. Was that right?

The girls here were friendly enough, although he had only gotten to know two of them. Alice was like an older sister. Not that he had a real sister to compare her to. But she was always concerned with his well-being. And there was Leigh, who was closer to his age. He was perhaps drawn to physical aspects of her, her blue eyes and blonde hair. He felt that tickle in his head, reminding him of something that he did not remember. Still, he didn't feel anything toward Leigh beyond that. Perhaps she was not his type.

Then again, what was his type? He didn't know. He didn't remember why he had liked his old girlfriends or what had drawn them together or anything significant that would guide him through _dating._

He directed his thoughts away from that and focused on something else that would break his monotony. Maybe he would travel. He had not been in that town long, but it sometimes seemed confining. Maybe backpacking through Europe would be fun, if he could convince Mrs. Ivey to give him some time off. That goal was less intimidating than _dating._

Erik stared back at the piano, feeling estranged from his once beloved instrument. With a sigh, he flipped himself up, stood, and walked over to it. He sat at the bench and attempted to tap out a melody. He could still read the music on the sheets, yet he felt disconnected from it and had no inspiration to compose. It seemed like a chore.

The next week continued as the last one had, until all the weeks began to blend together. Work. Socializing at the bar or the park or at each other's houses. On a Thursday, Ken called and invited him to a party on Saturday night. "Sure," Erik had replied. "I will come."

What else was he going to do? The piano was gathering dust…

He arrived on time. There were at least thirty people there, at a brick apartment complex that was similar to his. The architecture in that town was still dreadfully dull. Erik found Ken and Alice in a corner with a few other people whom he vaguely remembered. He poured a glass of red wine and took a seat on a green leather couch. "Hola, Erik," said Alice with a quick wave. She had a concerned look on her face whenever she spoke to him, to the point where it made him uncomfortable.

"Hello, Alice. How are you?" he replied.

"Okay. What have you been up to?"

He shrugged. "Work."

"Cool." She stared at him a moment longer, her brow furrowed, and then spoke to someone he didn't recognize. He had no one to talk to for a couple of minutes. The rock music was loud, and he started to regret coming. Maybe he simply functioned better in smaller groups.

Then the couch cushion moved, and he was jostled. Leigh had plopped down beside him, right up against him. The couch was becoming crowded. "Hi, Erik," she said.

"Hello, Leigh." He glanced down.

Her hair was right next to his cheek and tumbling onto his shoulder. His head buzzed. Perhaps it was the alcohol. Leigh had obviously consumed some. He could smell it on her breath, and she was swaying to the music. She smiled at him and then looked in the other direction. He wanted to touch her hair.

Before he knew it, the blonde strands were in his hand. He wrapped them around his fingers and rubbed them together, focusing on the softness. There was something enchanting about having that yellow hair curled in his palm. The whisper in the back of his mind intensified. _Your voice…angels weep…joy…Chri…_

"What are you doing?" Leigh's voice broke into his strange thoughts. She looked backward, probably feeling a gentle tug.

His face warmed, and he quickly untangled his hand. He was dizzy. "I like your hair," he stuttered.

She blinked twice and then giggled. "That's so sweet!" She turned all the way around and stared at him as though she expected him to say something else. "So what have you been up to?"

"Work," he choked out.

"Me, too. We're so boring, right?" She was being friendly, not cruel.

"I guess so," he replied. She was nearly in his lap, her right leg crossing his left. He leaned backward, feeling sweat collect on his forehead. The noises in the room blended - the music and voices and clink of ice against glass. Leigh said something else to him, something about her job, but he couldn't understand.

Alice's voice emanated from somewhere in the room. "Leigh, I think you should get off of him."

"Why?" Leigh asked. "We're just talking. And he likes my hair."

"He looks uncomfortable."

He wanted to ardently reply to Alice: _No, I'm not! Why would I be uncomfortable?_ He was twenty-three years old and had had girlfriends. Many, many girlfriends. And he was certain that they had all done more than sit in his lap. _So why the hell should he be uncomfortable?!_

He had lost his voice, though.

"He's fine," Leigh said. "But I'll get off. After I give him a big kiss on the cheek."

Alice rolled her eyes but didn't intervene. She tucked her hair behind her ear and turned to talk to someone else.

And then something very humiliating occurred. And there was nothing he could have done to stop it.

His head was pressed back into the cushion. He remembered that. And he could only stare wide-eyed as Leigh leaned in with her lips puckered and her eyes open. But before she could kiss him, he felt the moist trail of a tear on his right cheek. His eyes blurred. He was silently crying. _In front of everyone!_

Only inches away, Leigh noticed and pulled back abruptly, her eyes widening in confusion. He moved so quickly that she fell off of him, tumbling onto the floor. He ran outside through the back door, pushing through people and hearing annoyed voices behind him. The cool air awoke him from his stupor. He didn't know where he was going or what he was doing. Erik walked in a circle, pacing and clutching his head. Finally, he turned toward the sidewalk and headed home, his footsteps quick as he tried to escape the humiliation.

When he was halfway down the block, a voice called to him. "Erik!" Quick footsteps followed. "Erik! Wait!" Alice. He slowed his pace but didn't stop walking. "What's wrong?" she asked when she caught up to him. They were standing next to someone's front yard, a large willow tree hovering over them.

He whirled to face her. "What's wrong? _What's wrong?!_ What the hell _is_ wrong with me? Why would I do that? It was only a…Well, what is wrong with me?" He looked backward but could no longer see the apartment complex. "She must think I'm a pathetic idiot."

Alice hesitated. "Actually, she cried."

Erik flinched. "Why?"

"She's kind of self-conscious. Because, well, never mind. I talked to her. She'll be fine."

"What'd you say to her?" Alice looked down. "What did you say?" he firmly repeated.

"That you were probably dealing with your own problems, so she shouldn't take it personally. I don't know if she believed me. But she'll be okay. It'll be fine."

He didn't even refute it. He leaned against the tree trunk and folded his arms against his chest. It wasn't that he was attracted to Leigh. Or that the idea of her had repulsed him. It had had nothing to do with Leigh. He couldn't even think of her at that moment.

It had been the action. The situation. The fact that it was happening. And that made no sense. Because surely he had been kissed before. By his girlfriends. Yet he had been overwhelmed, almost claustrophobic, panicked.

Erik suddenly felt sick and took a seat at the base of the tree before he threw up.

"Are you okay?" she asked.

Erik stared forward. Every time that he thought he was _okay,_ something went wrong. He finally expressed the problem that was the easiest to explain and the least embarrassing, "I cannot play the piano any longer."

"What do you mean you _can't_ play? You don't want to?"

"I used to be very good at it, didn't I?"

"Yes," she said, and there was a touch of sadness in her voice. "Like no one I'd ever seen."

"I can still read music. But I have no interest in it. Or talent. It no longer comes naturally."

"Oh." Alice leaned back against the trunk. "A couple years ago, I took up drawing. Sometimes I'm okay at it. Other times, I can't seem to do anything right. Maybe inspiration comes and goes."

"Maybe so," he murmured. "Maybe it will come back. Someday."

"I'm sure it will." Her tone wasn't all that convincing.

Erik sighed and pulled himself up, no longer feeling nauseated.

She continued, "I have an idea. Let's be less social next weekend. I'm worn out on drinking, and we haven't hung out since our hike. Come over to my place. We'll watch some bad movies. We'll relax."

That sounded better to him than a warm, cramped room with loud, annoying music. "Yes," he said. "And I will cook something and bring it. Maybe my mother's lasagna recipe. She bought me this expensive glass dish that I have no use for." His mom was always buying him things for his apartment and kitchen. "Now I will have a use for it. Lasagna."

"You don't have to cook."

"I want to," he replied.

"Thanks," she said with a smile. "I'll make a salad to go with it."

They soon parted ways.

The week continued as normal, and no one mentioned the party. Although, the one time he passed Leigh, she refused to look at him. He didn't know what to say, as he didn't understand either. So he left her alone. Everyone else was fine.

He worked. And he went on a hike by himself, exploring the nearby forests and the mountains. And he made plans to travel. The only time he allowed the whisper to invade his mind was late at night, while he was curled up in bed. He let it sing him to sleep, cuddling up against it.

But, in the daytime, he returned to his life. Which was in that town. With his friends and his job.

Where he belonged.


	8. Chapter 8

**Here we go.**

 **Read and Review!**

"You can't move him! This is _my_ project! I've worked on it for over a year." Daniel was not happy. He obviously didn't handle change well.

"You can relocate," said Hope from across the conference table. "SCI will pay for your moving expenses."

"But my mom lives here!"

Hope rubbed her sinuses. "You can move. Or you can be replaced. Your choice."

Daniel huffed and leaned backward with his arms crossed. "All this because of what? A paperwork mix-up?"

"It's a lot more severe than paperwork," said Nadir.

"You don't need to know everything," Hope said to Daniel. "You need to do your job."

Nadir glanced at her with appreciation. She had been easy to work with so far, down-to-business and direct. Admirable, even. Yet, there was also something familiar about her. He couldn't put his finger on it. Maybe he had seen her on television, discussing her company. Maybe she reminded him of some of the women on the police force.

"That goes for everyone," said Hope to Gabby. "They will only know as much as they need to. Mostly that they're being paid extra to work overtime on a special project."

"Just what we need," said Nadir, more depressed than annoyed. "More secrets. More bribes."

"I'll have to move, too," Gabby murmured. "At least my daughter is almost done with school. I don't want to give up my work with Erik."

"How far is he going to be moved?" Daniel asked.

"About five hundred miles south," Hope replied. "Three states down. There's an empty lot where an old factory building used to stand. I'm having a team of computer scientists and engineers go down there to see how fast they can make the space into what it needs to be. We don't want to be so rash that we make stupid mistakes and wreck Erik's treatment."

"How will we transport him?" asked Gabby. "Without breaking his Connection."

"That's the million dollar question. It's never been done before. He'll be heavily drugged, and we'll have to make sure his programming is kept intact. It'll be delicate, but I think we can accomplish it with minimal disturbance to the patient. He may just feel like he slept too long." Hope smiled slightly. "Since I'm his mentor, I won't be too hard on him for being late to work."

"This is great!" said Daniel, angrily. "I mean, who screwed up?"

"I did," Nadir immediately replied. "I didn't read the political environment as I should have."

Daniel looked like he was going to yell some more, but Hope said, "It doesn't matter. Nadir, you couldn't have known. We'll do what we can to fix it."

The meeting adjourned five minutes later with some details settled. Nadir walked out with Daniel, who refused to look at him or talk to him.

They were on the sixth floor. In the hallway, they passed a tired looking younger man in a blue terry cloth bathrobe. His brown hair was wet, and his freckled skin glistened from the shower. He looked at Daniel. "Hey! Dan the Man. What's up?"

"Hello, Corey," Daniel grimly replied. "I'm having a terrible day. That's what's up."

"What's going on?" Corey asked, pausing in the hallway.

Daniel didn't stop walking. "Upper management bullshit. I'm not allowed to talk about it."

"Heh. That's always how it is, right? I'll see you later," Corey replied with a wave. His flip flops squeaked as he continued down the hall.

"I'm very sorry," Nadir said to Daniel right before they parted ways. "I didn't want this to happen."

Daniel shook his head and sniffed. "Whatever. We'll deal with it now. Hopefully, _my_ project won't be destroyed."

Nadir soon left SCI headquarters. He should have been happy that significant progress had been made, but he still felt anxious. There was still so much that needed to be done. When Nadir pulled up to his apartment complex, it was nearing sunset. He climbed out of his car and approached the front door.

He turned around and glanced toward the other side of the street. A lit up gas station sat there. Most of the pumps were empty of cars. Nadir swore that he felt someone watching him, saw a shift in the shadows. It was probably his imagination.

* * *

Christine managed to enjoy their apartment hunting adventures. They were a break from the sadness. All the units were so clean with polished floors or crisp white carpets. Spacious bedrooms. Fireplaces. "I can't even decide," she said after they had visited the fifth one. "They're all so pretty."

"Take your time. That one with the indoor pool was awesome."

"Yeah. That would be nice. A heated pool in the winter." She hummed with contentment at the thought. Then she felt guilty because this was only happening as the result of her mother's death.

Emotions aside, she needed to make a decision quickly, before Governor Chagny lost patience. She had retrieved most of what she wanted from her mother's apartment. Three cardboard boxes of clothes, memories from her past like the flower book, and enough of her parents' mementos to make a memory box. The bedding and mattresses were kind of yellowed and gross, but she was keeping her dresser and a few tables. Anything that smelled of the old apartment had to go. It didn't matter if her new place was empty for a while. After living in such cramped conditions, spaciousness sounded just fine.

Christine would miss her time at the townhouse. In her grief, she and Raoul had become closer friends over the last couple weeks. They had spent many quiet evenings in front of the television, her wearing pajama pants and t-shirts, under a quilt. They ate pizza and sub sandwiches on the days she didn't feel like leaving the house. Raoul didn't mind when she wanted to go into the bedroom and cry for a while. Or sleep for hours. Finally, she had felt ready to face her mother's clutter and to look for places to live. She had started to put her life back together.

After their latest apartment outing, Raoul took her to dinner at a steakhouse. She dressed for the occasion, slipping on a grey skirt and a white blouse and curling her long hair. She felt like more of a human being than she had in weeks.

"I think you're right," she said as she picked a cucumber out of her salad. "About the best apartment. The heated pool is great. Plus that one had shelf space and big closets. And it wasn't more expensive than the others." She knew he didn't care about the last part.

"Sounds awesome to me," he said. "I'll be over in the winter for that pool."

"You mean to tell me that the Governor's family doesn't have their own heated pool?" she teased.

"Well, we do," said Raoul with a laugh. "But I'd use it as an excuse to see you."

She blushed and looked down. "You're going back to school in the fall, aren't you?"

"Yeah. But I'm not that far. I come home on weekends all the time. I'll visit you."

"Oh. Thanks." She started to reach for a slice of honey wheat bread. His hand fells over hers. She looked up.

"Christine." His voice was nervous. "I know you've been through a lot. I don't want to rush you into anything. But it's probably pretty obvious by now that I…I like you. A lot."

"Oh." She swallowed. Her lip curved upward. "I like you, too."

"Really?"

"Yeah. Of course."

He inhaled and seemed to brace himself. "Would you want to start dating?"

"Um. Well." She hesitated. "I…I am kind of mixed up right now."

"I know." His face fell slightly. "If it's too soon, that's fine."

She didn't want him to feel badly. It was just that, "I haven't really felt like myself for a while."

"What do you mean?" His thumb stroked her hand, encouraging her to continue.

"It's hard to explain." She sighed. "Years ago, I used to have these big dreams. Maybe they weren't realistic…Anyway, my dad got me voice lessons when I was a kid. I would sing at school and in local plays. He always told me how proud he was of me. Then he died, and it hurt _so_ much. He had always been my best friend. My champion." She took a shaky breath. "I kept singing after that, at the theater. For a while, I felt like he was watching over me. I know you're thinking figuratively, but it was more than that." She stared off to the side, lost in the thought. "It really felt like his ghost was still with me. Then I lost that feeling. I tried not to give up. But now, with my mom gone, I feel like my heart has dropped out of the bottom of my chest. I don't even know if I can sing anymore."

"If singing means a lot to you, you should keep trying," he said.

"Maybe someday. But I don't have it in me right now. That's what I'm trying to tell you. I feel like a broken person. I don't know who I am. I'm not Christine the singer anymore. All I'm doing is getting through each day. Trying not to fail my classes or screw up my life."

She looked up and saw nothing but compassion.

"You've been through a lot," he replied. "But you've handled everything as well as could be expected. Don't be so hard on yourself." He glanced at the bread basket. "You know what I did after my mom died?"

"What?"

"Locked myself in my bedroom for nearly a month. My brother finally dragged me outside and made me play basketball. It was rough."

"Yeah. It is." She squeezed his hand across the table. "So, if knowing all that, you still want to date me. Then I'd like to give it a chance. If we take it really slow. Is that okay?"

"Yeah!" He grinned. "Yeah, that sounds great."

"Okay."

He leaned over the little red candle at their table. So did she. They shared their first kiss, gentle and tentative. Someone in the restaurant whistled.

The next month included dinner, movies, bowling, and strolls around the nicer parts of town. Raoul helped her move into her new home. It went slowly, as she wanted it to. When she wasn't with Raoul, Christine focused on schoolwork. They made no more headway with the theater, but she didn't know what else could be done. If the Governor couldn't fix it, who could? Maybe singing was behind her. A relic of her childhood. A fond memory.

After her father dying, near poverty, living in a filthy apartment, a mentally ill mother, a lost theater…maybe Christine finally had some karma on her side in the form of the world's best boyfriend. Maybe, after all the nights of crying, her life had finally become easier.

How very wrong she was.

* * *

Alice was one of the first thousand people in the System.

She had been born with a rare genetic mutation that caused chronic pain and exhaustion. Childhood had been bearable, normalcy interlaced with periods of agony and visits to the hospital. Each year of adolescence became worse than the last. Until her mother had allowed her stay home, usually in bed, with a laptop and a distance education program. By the time Alice had turned eighteen, the only way to avoid anguish was to lie in bed. And sometimes even that didn't work.

Her thoughts had eventually and reluctantly turned to the inevitable. She didn't want to do it herself, so she researched the countries that had legalized assisted suicide. Her parents had fought her, especially her poor father. After dozens of conversations, Alice had gently told them that, if they continued to so, she would find another way. Did they really want to stumble across her body one morning? Her parents had relented but still refused to deliver Alice to her final destination. So she had found a lawyer and advocates. She had received donations. The local news covered her story.

A one-way ticket. A suitcase with only a few items. A couple of good friends accompanying her.

Sitting in a wheelchair, Alice had been intercepted in the middle of Dulles International. By a clean-cut man in a crisp suit and tie. He had grinned widely, his eyes shining behind his glasses. "Alice Hastings, right?" he had asked, out of breath. "I'm so glad that I caught up to you. I phoned your father. He thought you were already gone."

Alice had grimaced. She had thought a nut job had discovered her plans and was about to tell her that she was going to Hell. She had ordered her friends to wheel her away from him. The man had hurried to keep up and pulled out a shiny brochure.

Thirty minutes before her plane boarded, she had browsed over the information. "It's virtual reality," she had said, annoyed and frustrated. "It's not even real. How is that a second chance?"

"No," the man had replied. "You're thinking of games and goggles. Of amusement parks. SCI is not that. You'll feel like you're living a different life. Hopefully, one without pain. Think about it. What do you have to lose now?"

She hadn't boarded the plane. Alice had agreed to participate on the condition that she could leave at any time. Back then, they had wanted patients like her, people with less traumatic situations. People they could practice on. At least for her, the initial discomfort had been worth it.

Alice had been connected for five years now. She had seen people arrive and tried to make them feel welcome. She had known patients who had died. She had seen one girl expire right in front of her. It wasn't like real life. The girl had become very still, like a doll, eyes still wide open. Until she flickered and disappeared, forever gone from both worlds.

And Alice had seen people make the choice to leave, including a man whom she had temporarily dated. Another veteran. He had decided that living in the real world, despite his terrible injuries, was better than being here. He had craved real life. Last she had heard, he was happy.

But she was happy in here. And that was the beauty of SCI. They were not prisoners. This was entirely consensual.

Erik disturbed Alice because he was the first person, the first patient, who had ever made her doubt the ethics of the program. Before Erik, she would have happily served as a spokeswoman for SCI. She would have promoted the company. But-

 _Why would SCI wipe out someone's memory so completely? Why would they wipe out someone's talent and passion? How could that be right? How could it be justified?_

Erik knocked at her door around 6 PM on Saturday evening. When she answered, he held up a glass dish of lasagna that was covered with paper towels. "Hey there," she said, making way for him. "That looks good."

"Thank you. I had to call my mother to make sure I got the recipe right." He came into her kitchen and set the dish down on her counter. "It might need to be warmed up later."

"Okay." She turned on the oven. "So what have you been up to?"

"The same as always," Erik replied. "Work."

"Same here. It's been a quiet week." Alice dug inside her refrigerator to make sure she had salad dressing.

"Yes. And I still cannot play the piano."

"Aw. Well, give it some time." She found two bottles of dressing, honey mustard and ranch, and set them on the table. "Anything else new?"

"A couple weeks ago, Mrs. Ivey told me I should date." Erik sounded a little upset.

"Really?" Alice looked up. "Your mentor said that? That's awfully personal."

"Your mentor doesn't say those things to you?"

"No." Her mentor was all business.

"Well, I don't think I want to yet," he said. "Date, I mean."

"That's fine," said Alice. He looked so concerned about it. "You're young. Have some fun."

"It is not really that," he replied. He looked down and ran his fingertips over her counter. "I do not want fun. I mean, fun is fine. But I am simply attached to…" He hesitated. "I don't know. The voice is more of a whisper now. But I still cannot, well, I still think about it…her." He softly asked, "Is that crazy?"

"No. You feel what you feel." Alice wished she had more advice, but this was all really beyond her. She couldn't reassure him that the girl was probably real without destroying the entire illusion. She was relieved when Erik didn't say anything else about it.

Alice moved on. "Okay. So movies. I know I said bad movies. But who wants to watch bad movies? And I won't make you watch a chick flick. Then you'd never come over again." Erik chuckled at this. "So we have the classics. _Star Wars_. All of them. _Lord of the Rings._ All of them. _Forrest Gump. Jurassic Park. Jaws. Carrie._ " She looked back at him. "Anything sounding good? If not, I can go to the newer stuff. We have _Marve_ l moves. Uh. Help me out here." He was staring blankly at her. " _Zero Dark Thirty._ _Argo._ _District 9._ Anything?"

"I don't know. What are all of them about?" he asked.

Alice stood up straight and turned all the way around. "Seriously?" Erik blinked. "I'm not trying to be mean, but are you serious?" _They had wiped his mind of movies, too?_ "Okay. I'll pick. _Jurassic Park._ Dinosaurs."

"Okay." He took a slow seat in her big red armchair. He was a little stiff at first. After a moment, Erik tucked his legs beneath him and seemed to get more comfortable.

"We'll watch part of it and then eat," she said. "Then finish the rest."

They settled in, and Erik appeared to enjoy himself.

At some point, Alice got up to put the lasagna in the oven.

* * *

 _Ring. Ring. Ring._

 _Ring. Ring. Ring._

Nadir turned over onto his back. He nearly fell off the couch, grabbing the coffee table to steady himself. What time was it? 7:17 PM. He had fallen asleep for the last thirty minutes. He felt a cold coming on, a tickle in the back of his throat.

 _Ring. Ring. Ring._

 _Ring. Ring. Ring._

He grappled for his phone on the table. The number looked familiar. He answered and reached over to switch off the television. Doing that darkened the room. "Hello?" There was no response. He cleared his throat. "Hello?"

"Nadir." The familiar voice was so soft – and so sad.

"Jeremy? Is that you? What's wrong?" No response. "Jeremy? Hello?" Nadir sat straight up. "How's Montana? Hello?"

The reply was hushed and frantic. "They found me up there and threatened to arrest me. In front of my wife! They said they could put me away for twenty years. For aiding and abetting. I had to…" His voice broke. "I had to. I'm so sorry."

"What? What did you do?" Nadir stumbled away from the couch. "What did you do?"

"I told them. I told them what we did that night." Jeremy sounded as though he were near tears. "My wife kept asking what was going on. I couldn't hurt her anymore."

Nadir leaned back against the wall, queasy and dizzy. He closed his eyes as a rush of blood swarmed through his head. An unsteady breath escaped the back of his throat. He forced himself to speak in an even tone. "It's all right, Jeremy. It's all right. I always said that if you got in trouble, you should blame me." He knew what question to ask now. He had always prepared for this day. "Did you do as we agreed if this ever fell apart?"

"Yes. I told them it was all us. Not SCI."

"All me, you mean. Not you."

"Whatever. I don't know what kind of evidence they have. There shouldn't have been any e-mails. We were so damned careful. Maybe someone ratted us out."

"You did your best. It doesn't matter now." Nadir swallowed. His throat hurt. "Do you know how much time I have?"

"If you go fast, you might be able to get away."

"Not me," Nadir whispered. "I'm not trying to get away." He had been wearing an undershirt and a bathrobe. He was now pulling on a pair of slacks that he had grabbed from his dirty laundry basket. He yanked them up with one hand. He grabbed a wrinkled white button-down shirt.

"What? Why would you even try?" Jeremy asked in shock. "Save yourself! Not that fucking _murderer!_ "

"I know you don't understand, and that's fine. Do whatever you can to get yourself out of this mess. I'm sorry I put you through this. You take care, old friend."

"But you-" Nadir hung up before Jeremy could reply.

He stared at the wall, paralyzed with terror.

He had to keep moving. He had to try to stop this from becoming even more of a disaster. First, he called Hope. There was no answer. "Damn it!" He tried Gabby next.

"Hello?" Water ran in the background.

There was no time for polite conversation. "I need you to meet me at SCI headquarters. Now."

"Nadir? What?" she asked in disbelief. "Now? I'm cleaning up dinner. I'm going with Meg to her - "

"Do you have security access? Can you get us in?"

"Yes. But can't this wait until-"

" _We have to get in there now!"_

Silence. The water stopped.

"I'll meet you outside the gate," she whispered.

"I'll see you in forty-five minutes," he replied.

Before he left, Nadir grabbed a Glock pistol from a locked desk drawer. He loaded it and put on a concealed carry belt. His shirt hung over the gun.

He ran out the door.

* * *

"I still can't believe you haven't seen all those movies," said Alice. They were heading into the kitchen for salad.

"I think I have heard of them," Erik replied, squinting. "But I don't think I have seen many movies." He seemed confused by it himself. "But I must have? With my friends and parents? I don't know." He shrugged.

Alice let it go. She took the bowl of salad from the fridge and put it on the kitchen table. She grabbed two smaller plates and forks. Then some salad tongs.

The kitchen was calm and cozy, and warm from the heat of the oven. This had been a good idea. Low stress interaction.

"Your lasagna smells so good," she said.

"Thanks." Erik smiled and began to eat his salad.

* * *

Nadir had parked to the side of the street, near one of the fields that the surrounded the building. Gabby had picked him up and driven them both through security.

"You had an easy time getting in," he said, his stomach turning. That made him paranoid. Still, there was no sign of the police yet. No sirens or lights. Maybe there was time. Maybe…

"There are sometimes patient emergencies at night," she explained. "I've done this before. Well, not this but…Oh, God." She shook her head. Gabby parked the car and turned toward him, fear in her eyes. She switched off the headlights. "Are you sure this is the only way?"

"Yes. I have to get him out of here. I should have done it weeks ago. But I had hope. Ugh. Literally. Hope." It had been two weeks since he had met with her. "She'll be angry, but you'll have to tell her it was just too late." He looked toward the front doors. They could not delay. "There's no time to second guess now."

They left the car quickly and walked to the building. Nadir refrained from running so as not to look even more suspicious. SCI was especially eerie at night. The lights were still on, but it much was quieter. He could hear the heaters humming. No one was in the front lobby, but he sensed life upstairs. He supposed that SCI would have nurses who worked all hours of the day. Nadir started to run toward the elevators, one goal in mind. Gabby grabbed his arm. "What are you doing?" she asked in a hushed voice.

"Getting him out of here," Nadir nearly snapped. "Now if you could get me a wheelchair or something to -"

"It's not that easy!" She looked at him as though he were crazy. "You can't just pull him out. I have to ask the program monitors to…" She gestured toward her head. "Take him offline, to put it succinctly. We have to drop the illusions. For Erik, it's essential."

"Why?"

"If we don't, his brain will be a mess. There's the possibly that he'd come back to this world but think he's half in that one. Like simultaneous realities. It might cause permanent damage, and he could even die from the stress. We have to get him offline before we wake him up. That's the only way I'll agree to this."

Nadir's shoulders slumped. "All right. Then do it."

"He'll start remembering things while he's in there," she continued, almost speaking to herself. "The basic buildings blocks of his life at least. I'll have them disconnect slowly—"

"Not too slowly! As quickly as possible!"

"Fine," said Gabby, putting up a hand as though to say: _Calm down._ "Just slowly enough so that it's not all a complete shock to him." She shook her head. "It's not going to be a good situation no matter what. This was not meant to happen!"

It was so difficult to think right now, to make the best decisions. Nadir asked, "What about the other patients? Will they be in danger?"

"You're asking if he could hurt them?" He nodded, and Gabby shook her head. "No. People can't severely injure each other in the System. There's a – it's hard to explain. A feature. For example, if someone were to stab another person, the knife would deflect off the flesh."

"That's good then." A numbness settled over him, as though his mind were protecting him from the reality of what was about to happen. He became very aware of the belt and the gun pressed against his stomach and waist.

Gabby tiredly added, "But he can still scare them. He'll have some of the meds in him for a while; they'll have a calming effect. And maybe he's all alone right now." She looked at her watch. "Maybe he'll go to bed early. If the erasure happens while he sleeps, that could be good enough…"

"If you have him going to bed before 9 PM, you really have done a number on Erik." Gabby turned white at his joke. Her face crumpled. "I'm kidding. I'm sorry. Don't cry, Gabby. Please be strong."

"You really want me to do this?" she whispered, brushing a tear off her cheek. "After all the work that's been put into him? All the pain he endured to come as far as he has. Yes, _pain_. All of it for nothing?"

Nadir put a hand on her arm. He spoke slowly, firmly, and gently. "Erik is going to wake up no matter what. When he opens his eyes, do you want him to see our faces? Or do you want him to see fifteen guns pointed at him?"

She swallowed and nodded, finally seeming to understand. "I'm going to the third floor," she said. "Stay here."

Nadir waited, constantly looking over his shoulder, listening for sirens. It was so quiet. He heard his heart pounding in his ears.

Ten minutes passed. _Where are you?_

The elevator dinged, and he turned. Gabby. "I told them the patient was sick." Her eyes were red, but her voice was steady. "I think they were a little suspicious."

"But they're doing it?" This time, he followed her toward the elevators.

"Yes. Give it thirty minutes. Then I'll try to do the rest."

* * *

The oven beeped just as they finished up their salads.

"I'll get it," said Erik, standing.

He rose from the chair and felt a little dizzy. Perhaps he had stood up too fast. He walked over to the oven and opened it. A cloud of warm air hit his face. He reached inside with two pot holders and took out the hot glass dish.

Alice again said that it smelled good, but his senses felt dulled. The light in the room seemed dim.

Holding the lasagna, Erik turned around. Alice waited patiently at the table, smiling slightly.

Erik looked down.

At the glass dish. That his mother had given him.

At the lasagna. A recipe that his mother had also given him.

Cheese and sauce and pasta.

That his mother had...he had called…he had asked her about the recipe…and…

He swayed.

No.

 _No, no, no._

 _That could not be._

Not the dish and not the recipe. They could not be from her. Not the phone call.

Because he had not seen his mother since he was eight-years-old.

 _One summer evening, she had told him that she was going out to buy cigarettes and gum. She had ordered him to stay in the bedroom for the rest of the night. But she had never returned. He had sat in his dank, dark room for three days without food or water, waiting for her._

 _He had wandered the streets during the nighttime, eating from garbage bags and drinking from water fountains, fleeing from any adult who showed interest in him. He had had no reason to trust adults. He had finally found her about three blocks away, sitting on a rotting porch and smoking with three strange men. He had walked up the cracked driveway. She had refused to look at him. He had simply wanted someone to feed him. Then he would leave her alone, as he always did. "Mother?"_

 _She had pretended not to know who he was. She had denied his existence._

" _You his mom?" one of the men had asked her. "I thought you said you didn't have kids."_

" _I don't know what he's talking about," his mother had coolly replied. "I'm not his mom. Maybe he's stupid."_

 _The men had all laughed at this. "You a retard, kid?" one had asked. "Is that why you have a mask on? You're retarded and think it's Halloween? Boo!"_

 _The men had scared him off the property, laughing as he fled. One of them had thrown a glass bottle, and it had hit him in the back of the head. He had fallen onto the concrete and skinned his knee. He had picked himself up and run away._

That was the last time he had seen his mother.

So this glass dish could not be from her.

Nor could the lasagna recipe.

Nor the phone calls.

The dish slipped from his hands.

It hit the floor with a deafening crash- exploding into fragments of glass and chunks of food. And the tomato sauce, splattered all across the kitchen, bore a slight resemblance to blood.


	9. Chapter 9

I enjoyed writing this chapter. So I hope you enjoy reading it. I tried to maintain the right balance of dark and sentimentality within a pretty screwed up situation.

 **Read and Review!**

 _Silence._

"Oh, God." It took Alice several seconds to find her voice. She had jumped out of her chair at the sound of the crash. Her attention turned to Erik. He was frozen, staring down at the mess. His face was blank, lips slightly parted. "It…it's okay. I'll just - No! No, Erik, don't walk forward. Let me clean up the glass first."

"Glass," he murmured. He tilted his head. "Does it even cut?" He bent down and picked up a handful of the sharp fragments. He crushed them in his palm. Alice gaped. "No. It does not. Because…Because…" Erik turned his palm downwards, opened his hand, and let the shards sprinkle onto the floor. "Because they are not real. Nothing is real here."

"Oh my…" Had SCI lost their minds? They thought _now_ would be a great time to reveal this to him?

No, it couldn't be that. Something was wrong. It had to be.

"All right." She tried to gain some control over the situation. "Let me help you over the glass, and then I think you need to sit down."

"Nothing in here looks right," he stated as if he hadn't heard her. Erik stepped toward her sink instead, the glass crunching beneath this shoes. He turned it on and stared at the rushing water. He let it run over his hand. "The water is wrong."

If that were true, she didn't notice anymore.

Before she could speak, Erik had turned off the water. He darted over to the kitchen light switch. He turned that off. Then back on. Then off. On. Off.

"The light is wrong, too," he said. "Pixelated. Everything is wrong." There was a little light coming in from the living room, so Alice could still see his shape. Her heartbeat quickened.

"Could you please turn that back on?" she uneasily requested. To her relief, Erik did so.

Then he was standing right in front of her, studying her face. "Are you real? You don't look like it."

"What? Yes, I'm a real person. I mean, this isn't my real body. But – Erik, do you know where you are?"

He looked down, eyes narrowing slightly. "A simulated reality. I remembered a Before. And now this is an After." He glanced back up. "So you are as I am? With a Before and an After."

"Um. Yes. I don't know what's going on, but you shouldn't have found out like this. There are entire classes devoted to explaining these things. How did you remember?"

"I remembered a truth," Erik replied. "A truth that was contrary to this reality. So I know this is a false world. But I do not know why I'm here."

"What'd you remember?"

He didn't answer. Whatever it was, he didn't want to say.

"Will you please sit down?" she asked. "This has to be a lot to take in."

Again, he didn't seem to hear her. Erik mumbled to himself as he turned away. Alice could have sworn he said something about Halloween.

The refrigerator in her kitchen was platinum and slightly reflective. Erik stared at it. He leaned toward it. His hand went up to his cheek.

Before she could blink, Erik had run out of the kitchen. The bathroom door slammed shut. It locked.

Stunned, Alice walked to her bathroom, one hand pressed against her forehead. "Are you okay?" she called. Silence. Followed by the soft rustling of clothing. Was he undressing? "Are you okay?"

Silence.

"Erik, you're scaring me. What are you doing? Are you sick?"

His reply was so loud that she stepped backward.

"They fixed _everything_!" He sounded astonished. "Everything! Every inch of me. And I am - what? Twenty-two? Twenty-three. They fixed everything!" He finally came out, fully dressed. He smiled at her as he passed, but there was something very off about it. It was too wide, too forced and frenetic. "What do you think?" he asked, and there was a sharpness to the question.

"About what?"

He pointed to his face. "You must agree that they did an excellent job. Or else you would not have invited me inside your home." He touched the front of his neck. His vocal cords. "I do sound like a boy who has recently reached puberty. But no matter. It is a small price for this!"

Her head was in chaos, but something finally clicked. Maybe because of Leigh - _"I don't care how shallow it sounds, Alice. I can actually look in a mirror without crying."_

Very carefully, Alice began, "I might understand. Is your face…injured in the real world?" His smile vanished, and his eyes narrowed. "It's okay," she rushed on. "Lots of people are injured here. Car accidents. Burn victims. War. It's why people come here in the first place. Among other reasons."

He didn't respond. He turned around and headed back into the kitchen. She followed him. "Look," she continued. "I shouldn't be the one explaining all this. SCI has messed up. I need to call an emergency number. To tell them that they need to help you."

Erik was staring down at the ruined lasagna again. Without looking at her, he asked, "Am I the only one here who did not realize I was here?"

"As far as I know. We always thought it was strange. They told us not to tell you the truth."

A moment of silence ticked by.

"Are you okay?" she asked. His back was so tense that she didn't know whether to offer a comforting touch or stay far away. His hands had curled into fists.

"I am starting to remember," he whispered.

* * *

They had only turned on one light, keeping the room dim.

Nadir stared at Erik, feeling ill again. Erik barely looked alive in that thing. "Can't we at least begin unstrapping him, getting him out of this contraption?" he asked.

"No," said Gabby. "As long as he's in the System, he needs to be immobilized. He could hurt himself otherwise."

Nadir checked his watch. "He won't be able to walk, will he?"

"No. I don't even know if he'll be able to sit up. I'll bring in a stretcher. He'll be ill for a while. He'll need medical care."

Nadir nodded. "I don't expect you to do that. I'll figure it out. I've had training."

"I'll help you," she replied. "I'll go with you for a couple days. Meg can stay with a friend."

"No. You can't be implicated in all this." Her face fell. "This is mine to deal with. I don't even know if we'll make it out of the country. If not, Erik and I have to be the ones to face the justice system."

"I can't just abandon him! I don't care if I get into trouble."

"It's not only about you," Nadir stated. "If SCI is blamed, the well-being of all these patients is in jeopardy. I was selfish to do this. I don't regret it, but it was still wrong. I have to make it right. And that means ensuring that SCI comes out of this as undamaged as possible."

Gabby looked at Erik, her hands folded up against her heart. "He's become so important to me, though. How can I abandon him now?"

Nadir gave her a sad smile. "Think of it like this, Gabby. You probably gave Erik more happiness than he's ever experienced in his life. What a gift that is. You and this company have given him more than anyone else ever could have."

She nodded and wiped at a tear. "I hope you can get away."

"Me, too." He checked his watch for the millionth time. "How much longer?"

"When it's time, hopefully in twenty minutes or so, that light will turn from green to red." She pointed downward.

In addition to his watch, Nadir became obsessed with that light.

* * *

They exploded in his head like fire crackers. One memory. Then another and another. Each event of his life unfolding before him.

He was not supposed to remember any of this. That was what the vile little man in the lab coat had told him. _"You're not going to remember anything, Erik. That'll make it all better. There's a good boy. No, don't struggle. I know it's uncomfortable, but you have to stay still for me. Soon this will all be a very baaaad dream."_

He had wanted to rip the idiot's head off. But then the reprogramming had actually worked. He had slipped into unconsciousness and nearly ceased to exist.

Until this moment.

Reality bent and twisted, and he was barely aware of where he was. Somewhere between There and Here. Either the room was too bright, or his mind was too dark.

Someone kept talking to him.

"Are you okay?" Squinting, he turned. A younger girl with long, dark hair and brown eyes.

He knew her, and he did not. The last months played in his head like a foggy dream or a movie seen long ago. More than being unfamiliar with the people here, he did not know the self who had interacted with them.

He noticed his blurred face in the refrigerator again and was reminded as to why the girl hadn't fled. He looked like a twenty-something-year-old boy. With a ridiculously handsome face. And an undamaged body. There was something darkly entertaining about that. He snickered to himself.

"What's so funny?" she asked.

"Nothing," he replied, facing her again. "This is really not funny at all, is it? I should not remember anything. But I do."

"What do you remember?"

"Many things. I was never supposed to again."

She asked, "But don't you want to remember your life?"

"Oh, God, - _no._ Are you extraordinarily stupid? No. No, no, no, no, no."

"Excuse me?" she asked, leaning back. She seemed angry now. "What is wrong with you?"

"What is wrong with me? You know, I just remembered the answer to that question. Quite a lot! Quite a lot is wrong with me." He ran his hands over his lovely face. "What the hell is happening?" Curling the fingers of his right hand, he smashed his palm against his temple. Again and again he did this, trying to get the unwanted thoughts out of his head. _Why were they in his head?_

No matter how hard he hit himself, they would not go away. The fire crackers became a wildfire of memories, every horror spread out in front of him. Something snapped. He looked toward the ceiling and roared, "What the hell is happening to me? What are you idiots doing?! What the hell are you doing?!" He called SCI a lot of different names after that. In three different languages, he screamed at them until his boyish voice was hoarse and broken.

When he looked back down, the dark-haired girl had left the room.

* * *

"SCI patient emergency hotline. How may I help you?"

"Yes! This is Alice Hastings, and I have an emergency."

"What's going on, Alice?" The man's voice was calm and encouraging.

"There's a patient. Erik. I don't know his last name." She paused. He was still raging at the ceiling, and she wasn't about to ask him. "He got here about, I don't know, months ago. Oh! He's the one who didn't have the memory of his Before. We all got that message. Anyway, something has gone really wrong. He's suddenly remembered his Before. And it's not good. I think he's having a nervous breakdown," she whispered. She tried to describe her evening, pacing back and forth in her bedroom, twisting her hair on her finger.

"All right. Give me a second. Hm…"

"What's wrong?"

"I don't see a recent patient with that name. There's one who came two years ago. Eric Foster. Twenty-eight-years-old now. Blonde?"

"No, that's not him. What do you mean you don't have a record?"

"I'm sorry, Alice. I'm not seeing anything in here."

Her mouth fell open in dismay. "I don't know what to tell you. He's in my kitchen, yelling." She momentarily held up the phone so that the guy could hear Erik. "I know he's not a figment of my imagination. Please find someone who can help me!"

"Okay. I'm going to find a supervisor, and I will call you right back. We'll look into this. I'm sure it's just a mix up with the records."

"Make sure you call me back," she said, jaw clenched. She hung up. Now what? Who could help? Corey was gone.

 _Ken!_ He had experience with PTSD. She called him.

"What's up, Alice?" he asked in a loud voice. She could hear rock music in the background. He turned it down.

"I need you to come over right now."

"I thought you were hanging out with Erik tonight."

"I was!" Again, she explained everything as quickly as possible. "I don't even know what to think," she finished. "I have no idea what's wrong with him."

"Jesus. I can be there in about twenty minutes. Is he still there?"

"I don't know." She walked to her bedroom door and into the hallway. It was quiet now, but she hadn't heard Erik leave.

"If he is, try to stay calm. If someone's panicking, the worst thing to do is panic with them."

"Okay. I was just so taken off guard. It's like…it's like he's an entirely different person. And he's kind of mean."

"Mean?"

"Have you ever been called extraordinarily stupid before?" Yet she was too bewildered to be angry.

"I've been called worse, but I hear you," Ken replied.

She had reached the kitchen. Erik was still there. He was sitting, hunched over with his face in his hands, motionless. "He's sitting down now. He's quiet but still looks upset."

"Huh," said Ken.

She turned around. "Look, I'd better go," she whispered. "Maybe he'll talk now. He seems calmer. You're coming?"

"Yeah. On my way. Call me if it gets crazy again. I can try to talk to him."

"Thanks." She hung up. She took a deep breath and returned to the kitchen. She sat across from him and spoke evenly and slowly. "I called the emergency hotline. SCI is going to look into this. I also called Ken. He's on his way. So, hopefully, we'll have help soon." He didn't respond. He closed his eyes. She couldn't tell if he was trying to ignore her or if he was simply seeking calm. She continued, "I understand that you are upset because you can remember things. And you don't want to." Maybe she shouldn't have tried, but the events of her life had turned her into a reluctant optimist. Alice added, "You must have one good real memory, right?" She forced a smile. "What about the singing girl? Don't you remember her now?"

His eyes immediately opened. He drew back, like a snake into a coil, and violently hissed, _"Don't!"_

Alice knew not to mention that again.

* * *

 _Christine, Christine, Christine._

 _He had first seen her in a wretched production of "Sleeping Beauty." Her lines of song had been short and unnoticeable._

 _To everyone except for him._

 _Her voice and her beauty and her essence had awoken him from a stupor that had lasted a lifetime. He had come to hear her every time after that. He had watched her as she worked backstage and in the administrative offices. When she was alone (or at least thought she was alone), he would listen as she sang to herself in that honeysweet voice. He listened to all her conversations, her laughter…her crying._

 _He had followed her home on the bus many times, sitting in the back so that she did not notice the monster who shadowed her. He would crouch outside her apartment window, to be as near to her as possible. Sometimes he had trailed her around the city, pretending that he was escorting her on an evening stroll._

 _When she sang, he took several video and audio recordings of her. Then he could watch and listen to Christine at all times of the day._

 _He would lie in a dark basement room beneath the theater – and view the same video of Christine for hours and hours, marveling at her._

 _Then he would find a full-length mirror and stare at himself. Every inch of himself. And remind himself of what he was. And that he was not worthy of even breathing the same air as her._

 _It was quite the exercise in masochism. And he had always played the role of sadist…_

 _A loop. Watch her for hours. Stare at himself for hours._

 _Sometimes he would call her merely to hear her say "hello" to him. He had written an entire composition devoted to her. And rewritten it again and again, perfecting it._

 _Christine, Christine, Christine._

 _He had bought clothing for her and stored them in a theater closet. And imagined how happy she would be to have them. And imagined how lovely she would look wearing them._

 _He found a small house, a cottage, recently abandoned, on the outskirts of the city. It was slightly back in the woods, likely used to 'get away from it all.' He paid enough to ensure no one would claim the property. He purchased furniture and bedding with floral prints. He bought baubles and glass decorations and false flowers that would never die. A bedroom just for her. He would give her everything she could ever want. And keep his face and body hidden from her. In time, she would not mind his presence. So long as he kept his ice cold fingers away from her delicate skin, perhaps she would even permit him to touch that long, golden hair. Perhaps._

 _He prepared to reveal himself. And procured the gentlest of sedatives._

 _But it was not to be._

 _Because of his own stupidity and paranoia. Because of the amphetamine. He had done something reckless and rather gruesome. And then Khan had interfered. The forbidden dream was destroyed._

Sitting in that kitchen made of binary numbers, Erik touched his face. His beautiful face. If only sweet Christine could see him now! Maybe she would let him touch her bare skin, if he looked like this. Maybe she would allow him to bury this wonderful face into her lovely hair.

But such thoughts were impossible. He could not be There. She could never be Here.

Yet, if he were dropped back into reality, he would have immediately gone in search of her. He would finish what he had begun.

So they had better fix him. And soon. Very, very soon. The memory of her was his single resistance to this simulation, the only reason he still itched to escape this mental prison. The whisper of her voice had morphed into a song at full volume, playing over and over in his head. It was torture to remember her without any chance of having her. There were no walls he could break down or locks he could pick to get to her. Not here.

So they had better fix him…they had better fix him now… if they wanted him to be _good._ And they did want that, didn't they? Minding spinning in a whirlwind of horror, he again hurled several obscenities toward the ceiling.

The girl…Alice flinched. She said, "SCI can't hear you. I called the emergency line. That's how you contact them."

"And it worked so well," he bitterly replied. He reached out. "Give me that phone. I will try. And perhaps I will be more convincing than you were."

She gripped it. "I don't know if that's a good idea." Before he screamed at her to give him the _goddamned phone_ , Alice said, "Then again, if they hear you, maybe they'll do something." She slid the phone across to him. "Push the red button."

He did so, feeling the heat rise within him. The other side rang and rang and rang. He reached an answering machine. Red colored his vision. He hurled the phone onto the table. It slammed against the wood and bounced to the floor.

"Are you-?" Alice jumped up, both hands incredulously raised. "What is-I- Wh-Where is Ken?" she stuttered. "Why won't anyone call me back? Why won't anyone help?!" Now she was yelling at the ceiling.

It was good to see that his insanity was still contagious. He had always been gifted at making his victims lose their minds.

She bent down and grabbed her phone. "I'm going outside to wait for Ken. I need fresh air. I'll come back when he's here."

"Oh, I am sure that he is going to work wonders! What is he? Twenty-one?"

"He's older than-" Alice paused and looked down. She bit her bottom lip. She looked back up. She was starting to realize what he was. "Are you twenty-three?"

"Of course I am," he sarcastically replied, looking into her eyes. "Twenty-three with my whole wonderful life in front of me."

It looked like she was about to respond. Then she blinked several times. She stared even more closely at him. Alice put a hand over her mouth. "Oh!"

"What?" he asked. "What are you looking at? If you tell me my real face is back, I might-"

"Erik," she whispered. "You're flickering."

* * *

The light turned yellow.

"It's almost time," said Gabby. "He's separating. Give it another ten minutes."

"What? We've been waiting for over forty!"

"His mind was very interwoven with the System. It takes time to untangle it. Now, as soon as he wakes up, we'll have to make sure his muscles are properly-"

"Sh!"

She looked up at him. "What?"

"Hush!" Nadir snapped. He closed his eyes and listened.

No, no, no. Oh, God. No.

But it was unmistakable. Sirens in the distance. Coming closer and closer.

Gabby finally heard them, too. "Oh, no," she whispered. "Maybe it's for something else."

"They're too close," he said. "There are too many. Why else would they be out here?" He stepped toward Erik. "I have to get him out! Now!"

Gabby grabbed his arm. "You can't until he's ready! It might kill him!"

Nadir released a cry of frustration and pounded his fist against the wall. And he knew - "It's too late now anyway. It's too late for all of us! They'll have this building surrounded in minutes. By the time we carry Erik to the car, it'll be too late. Damn it!"

"What do we do?" She ran toward the door. She ran back to Erik. "Nadir, what do we do?"

"This is the end," he said, shaking his head. "I'm going to prison. I am." Nadir reached beneath his shirt. He grabbed the cold gun and took it out of the belt.

"What are you doing with that?!" Gabby cried. "Why do you even have that?"

"When they ask, say that I coerced you. Say that I threatened you and your daughter. Say that you felt that you had no choice but to help me tonight."

"Oh…" Hand over her mouth, Gabby began to sob.

"Good," he said. "Look as distraught as possible. Look miserable." He approached Erik, gun firmly in hand. The thought had already crossed his mind several times that night, had been one of his reasons for grabbing the weapon.

There were worse things than death. For Erik, there certainly were.

But could he really do it? His heart hammered in his ears.

"What are you doing?!" Gabby screamed. She ran up to him, pressed both hands against his chest, and tried to push him backward. "What are you doing? You can't! Stop! Please stop!"

"It might be for the best," he whispered. "You don't know what they'll do to him…"

"I don't care! You can't, Nadir!" she wailed. "There's no coming back from that! For the love of God, please! Please don't do this!"

He looked between her and Erik. Her and Erik. Gun in hand. He raised it.

 _Between her and Erik…_

Gabby screamed, _"Don't!"_

Nadir's arm dropped back to his side. His shoulders slouched. No, he could not do it. Not with Gabby shouting at him like that, as though watching it happen would be the death of her. Nadir released a soft, dry sob. Maybe he just didn't have it in him.

But he couldn't help but think – _Erik will wish I had._

Sirens wailed outside. Gabby wept softly.

* * *

Erik looked down at himself. "Why am I flickering?"

For the first time in many minutes, a hopeful thought occurred to Alice. "Maybe they're fixing what's wrong. I bet that's it!"

Erik looked up at her. For the first time in many minutes, she saw slight relief on his rigid, angry face. "Perhaps you are right." There was a tremor in his voice. "They are finally correcting this catastrophe."

Alice sat back down, heavily, into the chair. "Thank God." She felt exhausted and sick to her stomach. Erik stared forward. He was still, save for his hands, which he wrung together anxiously. His mouth was expressionless. His eyes seemed especially dark. Something was very, very wrong with him.

There was a conversation she wanted to have before this awful night was finally over. Alice took the risk of speaking to him, hoping nothing that she said would cause him to melt down again. "Erik, for the longest time, I wondered whether to tell you the truth. You seemed so confused. I thought you'd be happier if you could remember everything."

"Oh," he murmured. He seemed to think deeply for a moment. "Do not ever tell me the truth. If I may flatter myself, I have a very high intellect. So my subconscious perhaps resists the illusion. It is to be expected. But I cannot know the truth."

"I believe you." She did. When that shy young man returned, when her friend returned, Alice vowed to let him be. It was best for Erik. Ken and Leigh had been right all along.

"Are you a good liar?" he asked with the shadow of a smile.

"I don't know. Probably not."

"That's a pity. Well, do your best. When this is all fixed, lie to me. Tell me the prettiest lies that your mind can conjure up. Will you?"

"Yes," she promised.

"And you will forget this night?" he asked.

"It'll be like it never happened."

"You are a very terrible liar." It was said without malice, though, and she couldn't help but sadly laugh.

Erik's body and face continued to flicker in and out of focus. She was waiting for anything. A phone call from SCI. Ken. Or for Erik to suddenly forget this night and return to his previous self. Someone had to save them from this awful limbo.

What she wasn't waiting for was the sudden expression on Erik's face. He turned ghost white. His eyes widened. His mouth formed into an 'o' of horror.

"What's wrong?" she asked, ready to jump up again.

"I can hear them," he murmured. "I can hear the other side now."

"What are they saying?"

He wobbled and swayed. "It is almost over."

"They're fixing you?"

"No. No, that is not what is happening. Not at all. Oh, this is not going to end well. Unless..." He squeezed his eyes closed and spoke to someone on the other side. "Ah, yes, Khan. There you go. Do it. Do it, you idiot." He gritted his teeth as though waiting for something. "No, Nadir. Don't listen to the Giry woman. She is far too emotional. We both know this is for the best." He braced himself for several more moments. He exhaled angrily. "Nadir, you pathetic coward," he snarled. "How I abhor you for your gross incompetence." Erik opened his eyes, a sneer on his lips.

"What's going on?"Alice frantically asked. "Who are you talking to?"

"He…" Erik sighed. Again, he listened to the other side. His shoulders dropped. "There is not much time left now. And I don't want you to know anything about me. It is best that way. If all goes well, I will be dead in minutes."

A tear streamed down her cheek, but she was out of words.

He glanced at her face and then quickly looked away. "Don't look at me like that," he said. " _No one_ looks at me like that. The person you will mourn never existed. It was a delightful lie, a game of make-believe." He titled his head and stared into the distance. "Still, I do remember my time here. Very vaguely. Like an odd dream. Volleyball." He chuckled and shook his head. "How very strange that all is…"

His hands lay limply on the table. With nothing else to do, she reached out. She reached out to take his quivering, flickering hand. He glanced down. It looked like he was going to let her. His hand turned and opened very slightly.

But, in the blink of an eye, he was gone.

That was how Ken found her seconds later. Reaching out across the table and grabbing onto nothing.

"What are you doing?" Ken asked.

The lights flickered. She felt a tiny jolt throughout her whole body. Her mind was suddenly blank.

Empty.

She slowly looked up at him, feeling as though she had just woken up from a nap. "I don't know," Alice murmured. Her eyes were blurry, teary. "What are you doing here?"

"You told me to come…"

"Why'd I tell you to come?" she asked. She vaguely remembered making a call, but the reason for it completely escaped her.

Ken shrugged and squinted. "Heh. You know, I don't remember. My excuse is that I was drinking. What's yours?"

"Not enough sleep."

He looked at her kitchen floor. "What happened here?"

Alice looked, too, and flinched. "I guess…I spilled lasagna everywhere. Wow. I know why I asked you to come over now. To clean up my floor!"

He laughed and looked more closely at her face. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah." She swallowed. "Yeah, just watching movies by myself and spilling food." She felt inexplicably strange and sad. "Will you stay for a while? Movie night?"

Ken grinned. "Well, I'm here. So why not?"

* * *

The light turned red.

"Oh," Gabby whispered. Even under unimaginable stress, she began to work. She removed the helmet from Erik's head. Then the black goggles. With deft hands, she pulled the tubes from his nose and mouth. His horrible face was revealed, even paler and more shriveled than Nadir remembered it.

She moved onto the cords and the wires. When she got to the straps that held his arms and legs, Nadir ordered, "Stop."

Gabby looked at him.

"It's better that he looks defenseless," Nadir explained. "They'll shoot if they feel like he's a threat. You want him alive, it's better that way."

She shakily nodded and backed away.

Quick footsteps. Heavy shoes against sterile linoleum echoed down the hallway. Lights flashed on.

Nadir set the gun down on a table, making sure it was far out of his own reach. He got onto his stomach, hands flat against the floor, and ordered Gabby to do the same. He was numb, broken.

The police swarmed in, hollering commands.

Yellow eyes opened.


	10. Chapter 10

Thank you for the wonderful response on that last chapter!

So…it looks like everyone is happy that the real Erik is back. Right? Me, too! :D Until I had to write this chapter D:

Just kidding. It's not too bad and is a bit transitional. Still - warnings for cruelty and violence over the next several chapters.

 **Read and Review!**

 _Years before He had first seen the Angel, Nadir Khan had pulled him off the drug that his hellish former employer had trained him to love. The stimulant had been fairly new to the black market. Some people snorted it. Without a nose, he had usually just taken the rosy red pills. It was more powerful than prescription amphetamine. It lasted a while, longer than cocaine. It gave him a rush and a euphoria. It allowed him to complete his work without hesitation, without pause and with precision. And his employer offered him plenty of downers so that he could relax when necessary. He had sampled a bit of everything throughout his youth. He had been on his own since age eight, doing whatever was necessary to have at least one meal a day. By eighteen, although farther up in certain hierarchies, he was content to be numb._

 _But the red pill also made him paranoid. Murderously so. Increasingly so. After a long chain of events, Nadir had gotten him off all mind-altering substances._

 _And He had been forced to live with himself._

 _For years afterwards, he had led a relatively quiet life. Tucked away in darkness and solitude. He focused on his music, spending hours at a piano that he had hauled to the forgotten rooms of the theater basement. For income, he had a few hobbies. Hacking, occasionally. He kept a wide assortment of computer viruses on hand, particularly those that could move money between accounts. And he extorted several people who deserved to squirm. Khan wouldn't have approved. But, so long as He wasn't killing for hire, Nadir let him be._

 _In his spare time, he would watch shows at that theater, quietly criticizing the terrible productions yet at least partially distracted. His only socialization was the occasional visit with Nadir – and that was usually dull and pointless._

 _But he had been clean. At least he could say that much. He had been the closest thing to sane._

 _But that was only because he did not know what he was missing._

 _Then her. She had ruined everything._

 _As he had huddled in his dark hole with the videos of Christine playing in the background, plotting for the day that he would finally take her home, his mind had taken some very dark turns. Even as he tried to force his brain to picture her smile, all he could imagine were her shrieks of horror once his cold, dead hands touched her. Once she saw what he really was. These thoughts wrecked him from the inside out. Tortured him. There was no sleep. There was no peace. Just her voice, playing around and around in his mind._

 _So - he had returned to the drug. To rid himself of the crushing, debilitating weight in his chest - he had returned to it. The little pill had given him false optimism and energy. It made the world a little brighter._

 _The paranoia and hallucinations had also returned._

 _He didn't remember those days very well. His mind was gripped by the drug and Christine._

 _It had all come down to one death._

 _There may have been others. He couldn't remember exactly. Homeless people…petty criminals. Those who inhabited his world. No one whom was missed._

 _But that last death._

 _He had sometimes used a set of outdoor concrete steps to access the basement. One night, he had started to rapidly descend them. It was dark and rainy. Someone's footsteps approached from behind. Down the moist steps. Following him._

 _Had he been in the right state of mind, he would have ducked to the side and turned to see who it was. He would have assessed the situation. Then shrugged and moved on._

 _But he was very far from the right state of mind. He had been sure that the intruder had come to kill him. His heart had raced. What little hair he possessed stood on end. He barely remembered what happened next. A gaping mouth. Eyes bulging out of sockets. Cries of pain. A struggle. The snap of bone. He had murdered the man quickly._

 _He had run. He had hid. And nearly forgotten by the next morning._

 _The man turned out to be a beloved member of his community. A retired firefighter. A do-gooder involved with the local charities. With a wife. And four kids. And seven grandchildren._

 _And one of those grandchildren had been down the street that night. The boy told the police that "a ghost had killed his Papa. Papa was only trying to retrieve a little rubber ball that they had been playing with. It had rolled down the steps, and Papa had gone down there to get it. Then Papa had died."_

 _Nadir knew instantly whom was responsible. Khan had threatened to 'send the national guard' after him - "I tried to help you! I tried so many goddamned times! This is it! This is it, Erik. End of the line. I can't live with your crimes on my conscience. You're going to jail. You'll be treated like the murderer that you are."_

 _The crime had been stupid. Reckless. The death had been pointless and unnecessary. He had gotten nothing out of it._

 _Still, he was not ready to go down that easily. And he still wanted her. He still wanted the Angel very badly and refused to live without her._

 _So he had created a new plan. He would leave this city, escape Khan, and take her with him. He would show her the world. He would give her the world. If Nadir interfered before he could get away, then He would simply kill Khan, too. No matter…No matter…_

 _A week or so later, as He plotted, Nadir approached him with another option. Khan came to the theater holding a small white flag that signaled peace._

 _Keeping himself concealed, he had icily asked, "What do you want now? The war has begun between us, yes? What makes you think your little flag will protect you?"_

 _Nadir had replied, "Maybe it won't. But I wanted to try. I spoke to a friend of mine. I've mentioned her before. Gabby. There may be another way besides prison. If you're willing. You have to be willing. No more games. Gabby works for this company…" After explaining, Nadir had left behind a bunch of ridiculous pamphlets. Khan's last words were, "I'll give you a couple days to make your decision."_

 _He had looked at the brochures and scoffed. What use did he have for a false reality with a bunch of ill people? No, he was still determined to take Christine and remain in the real world._

 _Nadir grew impatient and threatened to have the authorities barricade the city._

 _He knew he had to make his final move. He was still crazed. Still paranoid. Still on the drug. Yet still very determined._

 _One evening soon after, he watched for her. He was sick, sick, sick in the mind, but he watched for her. His heart racing. His cold skin perspiring. Down below the stage, waiting for her to appear above. She was working that night. Perhaps that would be the night. After she left, he would find her, before she caught the bus._

 _He waited._

 _And waited. And waited._

 _Someone came downstairs. The steps creaked. Footsteps approached. He crouched._

 _On edge, he looked up._

 _A man appeared. A bearded man with greasy black hair and an evil smile. One of his enemies from long ago had come to kill him!_

 _Rope ready, He prepared to fight. Hands ready. Inches away from the enemy's neck. Ready for the firm crunch of bone. Eager for it._

 _He reached out. To kill._

 _It was her voice that saved her._

" _I found it!" she called to someone high above. She grabbed a black top hat. She had been looking for a prop. With a smile, Christine scurried away and back up the stairs._

 _Horror._

 _He had hallucinated. In his paranoia, He had thought she was the enemy. He had almost killed his precious Angel. Shivering, he had crept away. He had hidden. Horrified at himself. Sick, sick, sick. Tears and sweat were plastered all across his terrible face. His heart still raced, his mind still whirled._

 _There was only a second where he was able to do it. A second of clarity. Where he could save her life. He had phone Nadir. "Come get me," he had whispered. "I have heard the Angel's voice one last time, and I must go now. Come get me. Come kill me. Come kill me now._

 _Nadir had not trusted him to surrender and had brought many other officers. No matter - He had been ready to die. Nadir had handcuffed him._

 _Sitting in the back of the police car, seeing her walk by that night, He had still regretted the decision. She should be with him forever and ever. His heart wrenched. He had said to Nadir, "If you are taking me to jail, you had better kill me instead. I'll force them to. I won't be an animal in a cage."_

" _I'm not taking you to jail," Nadir had replied. "You're going to SCI. That's your second chance." And Nadir had kept his word._

 _Why hadn't He simply chosen death? Why hadn't he killed himself?_

 _And the answer was that - perhaps in all his twistedness, in all his wretchedness, a part of him had craved what Nadir offered._

" _I really think it could be a second chance for you, Erik," Nadir had mused "To have another start."_

 _When He had realized what SCI entailed, he did regret the decision. Many times. He had fought back. Through his withdrawal from the drug. Through the humiliation of having every part of his hideous body prodded and examined…touched clinically. He had no privacy, no control. It had been one of the most debasing experiences within the last ten years._

 _And there was the horror of having his mind scrambled. Sometimes it felt like a migraine out of hell. Sometimes memories came forth that he had long ago buried._

 _But at least there had been an ending. An escape. He remembered the moment when he had stopped fighting. "There you go," the vile man in the lab coat had said. "Just relax, Erik. Let yourself fall into it. There you go. Goodbye, Erik."_

 _What happened next was all very unclear now. He remembered that it suddenly felt as though his mind had been washed clean. He remembered green grass and blue sky. A spotless apartment. And voices. People who had not feared him. And why should they? He was a young man from the suburbs with a perfectly normal upbringing. He remembered the park. Nights spent with people who were not cruel. Because he did not look like a freak. Running up the mountain with the girl. Even his cynical mind could admit that the Other Place had been good._

 _It had perhaps been worth the humiliation. The end was perhaps worth the means._

Until now.

Now, he wished for death. He silently begged for it.

"Jesus Christ," said one of the policemen, staring at him with wide eyes. They all held their guns up, securing the room, but still kept a distance from the monster in the center. "Is…that alive?"

The damned Giry woman spoke from the floor. "Yes, he's alive," she said. "But he'll need medical attention. He's very weak."

"Does he have something contagious?" another officer asked. "Should we get the CDC involved?"

"No!" she exclaimed. "He's disfigured. He doesn't have anything. He's been in the System for over a year."

"Good God." They all gaped at him.

She quickly continued, "I was his main caretaker here. I didn't know anything was wrong with him. Legally, I mean. And then this man…Nadir said I had to help remove the patient from the facility. He said he would hurt me and my daughter if I didn't. So I obeyed him. He had a gun. I didn't know what was going on or what to do. What is going on?"

Now _she_ was a respectable liar.

The first officer responded, "All right. Stay where you are for now. Stay down, and you won't be hurt."

They allowed her to give them more information, some of which was rather humiliating, regarding his condition and treatment and needs. He hated her for not allowing Khan to kill Him.

One of the officers spoke into a radio. "Could you tell University Hospital that we're going to need a bed for a wanted suspect? Uh, no, no sign of traumatic injuries. But we'll need a complete assessment. I'll try to get you more information soon."

Paramedics entered. And they wanted to know the same thing. How could the corpse still be alive?

He was too weak to do anything once they released him from the restraints. Multiple hands grabbed him and pulled him down. They strapped him to a gurney. Shackled him. Handcuffed one of his arms to the silver metal bars. He stared at the ceiling with dread. His voice was nearly gone from disuse. Still, he forced out a hoarse plea to the officer directly above him. "Kill me."

The cop grimaced. "That's for the court to decide." The man shuddered and looked away.

 _He_ was ignored after that. A disgusting thing that no one wanted to acknowledge. They avoided looking at him. They avoided touching him unless absolutely necessary. They wished he did not exist. So that they did not have to deal with something so unpleasant in their lives, something that would give them nightmares and cause them to stare into space during dinnertime with their delightful families.

He also wished he did not exist.

A dull hatred stirred within him.

He hated Giry for not allowing him to die.

He hated Khan for putting him in this situation. He should have killed Khan years ago.

And everyone else standing around him – he simply hated. He had left them alone, literally abandoned their world, for an entire year. He had let mankind be free of him.

He had found some semblance of that elusive concept known as happiness.

And had it ripped away from him in a single night.

Over the next weeks, as he was shackled and confined to a dismal room, often ignored but sometimes tormented, the dull hatred burgeoned into a fiery one.

That was fine.

He knew exactly what to do with hatred.

* * *

Corey was awoken by pounding on his front door. Alarmed, he fumbled for his glasses, dropped them on the carpet, and reminded himself that he needed to check into laser eye surgery. SCI had increased his salary, so maybe he could actually afford it.

The knocking grew louder. His roommate's Yorkie was furiously barking. Corey threw on a t-shirt and pair of jeans that he had worn yesterday. He checked the clock. It was just past seven. What the hell?

His roommate, Yvonne, was already out there, still dressed in a t-shirt and pajama pants. She held a closed black umbrella, fear on her face. "I think someone's trying to break in," she whispered. Her dog continued to bark and growl.

Remembering the creepy dude in his driveway, Corey's heartbeat sped up. He motioned for her to get back and then approached the door. He glanced through the peephole. His shoulders relaxed. "It's okay," he told her. "I know him."

Corey opened the door.

Daniel nearly knocked him over, rushing through the doorway and into the apartment. "I am screwed!" he yelled. He slammed the door behind him.

Yvonne still hadn't put down the umbrella. "This is a friend of yours?" she asked, incredulously.

"Coworker," Corey muttered. He approached Daniel, who was now standing in the middle of his living room. The Yorkie followed Daniel and continued to yip. "Dude, calm down. What's going on?"

"Haven't you seen the news?" Daniel asked. "Or your e-mail?"

"It's not even eight. I haven't even taken a …" Corey glanced at Yvonne and cleaned up his language. "Gone to the bathroom yet."

Yvonne dropped the umbrella and shook her head. "I'm going back to bed. You need new friends, Corey." She scooped up her dog and returned to her bedroom, firmly closing the door.

"What's going on?" Corey asked.

Daniel took a heavy seat on his sofa and put his face in his hands. "Turn on some local news," he muttered.

Corey did so. He caught the beginning of a morning broadcast. A female reporter was standing outside a complex of government buildings in the city. "—the reason behind all of this. So far, we know the raids have involved police headquarters, the DA's office, city hall, and, oddly enough, Second Chances Incorporated. The company is known for combining virtual reality with medicine to help people with painful and traumatic injuries."

The anchorman questioned the reporter, "Do we know why SCI was raided?"

"We don't," she said. "We only know that one person was arrested, one was detained, and, according to a source who wanted to remain anonymous, someone was taken to the hospital. It's very hard to get more details as police continue their investigation."

"Can you tell me about the other locations that were raided?"

"We know that, last night, twelve people were arrested across the city. Another twenty or so are being detained and questioned. We know that this was a top down initiative. A lot of people are saying the Governor's administration has overstepped its bounds of power. Others are saying that corruption was rampant and that a heavy hand was needed. In the coming days, you're going to see a lot of-"

"What the hell?" asked Corey. He had been aware that Governor Chagny was cracking down on crime. He hadn't expected it to affect him. "What are they doing at SCI?"

"Screwing me over. That's what," said Daniel with a scowl. "My project has been stolen. Destroyed. All that hard work. For nothing!"

"What project? What are you talking about?"

Daniel sighed. "This is confidential, so don't tell anyone else. Over a year ago, Hope Ivey gave me a special assignment. SCI has always focused on physical problems, right? Accidents. Paralysis. Pain. Well, this one was psychological. There was a physical component, the guy was deformed beyond belief, but that wasn't the main point. I was assigned to fix his head."

"What?" Corey was still bewildered.

"I was given a really, really screwed up patient. A monster. He was unhinged. A maniac. And I…I made him good. I made him sane. I took a wild, psychotic tiger. And I turned him into a kitten. And it was glorious!"

"Holy shit." Corey gaped. He had always had mixed feeling when it came to Daniel. On the one hand, Daniel was smart. Really smart. They had had late night conversations at bars, discussing everything from quantum physics to parallel universes to nature versus nurture theories. Yet there was also something a little cold about Daniel and the way he viewed people. "You're saying that you altered the psychology of the patient?"

"Yeah. I did. And, last night, the cops hauled him away."

"Why?"

"No one will say exactly," said Daniel. "Wouldn't surprise me if the guy were a criminal. But that's not the point. It doesn't matter what he was before! I made him good."

"Jesus. What was his name?"

"Erik."

Corey recoiled. "The guy who couldn't remember his past?"

"Yep. That was an essential part of his treatment."

An uneasy feeling settled in the pit of his stomach. "Oh my God. I know him. Knew him? Oh my God."

Daniel looked up. "You did? In the System, right?" Corey nodded. "What did you think of him?"

Corey shrugged. "He was a nice enough kid." Daniel smiled strangely when Corey said this but didn't interrupt. "A little strange. Kind of socially awkward. But he was really talented at the piano." He paused. "I didn't know him too well, I guess. My friends did. One girl did, in particular."

Daniel shook his head and groaned. "See! He had a girlfriend?"

"I don't know if you'd call her a-"

But Daniel was already off on another rant. "That was all my work, Corey! And now it's destroyed. Dead! And no one cares."

"So he's just gone now?"

"Yes."

"What are we telling everyone?" Corey thought of Alice. "That he died or what?"

"That's why you should look at your e-mail. As soon as SCI knew what was happening, they wiped the minds of the patients. The patients won't remember him. The employees will. You will. But you're supposed to keep your mouth shut."

Corey felt even more disturbed. "This is pretty screwed up."

"Tell me about it!"

"What is SCI thinking? The company was never supposed to work like this. Playing with people's heads? And the ethical implications," Corey murmured as it all sank in. "They stuck a possible criminal in there with the other patients?"

"Oh, don't blather on about that," said Daniel, waving his hand to the side. "Erik was perfectly fine once I fixed him. He was no danger to anyone. A puppy dog. Governor Asshole ruined everything."

Corey snorted. "He does seem like an asshole."

"He's making a lot of enemies," said Daniel.

"I'm sure he has a ton of security."

Daniel looked like he was going to saying something a little dark but closed his mouth. They sat in silence for a moment. Daniel finally stood. "Well, I guess I'd better get out of here. Call in before you come to work. There's still police activity. You might not be able to get into the building for a couple of days. And don't tell anyone I came here."

"All right." Corey showed him out the front door. "I'll see you later."

"See ya." Daniel's shoulders were slumped as he walked away.

Corey closed the door. He glanced at the news. They were still talking about the other raids. Police cars lined the streets. Reporters and cops ran back and forth as bystanders looked on.

What a mess.

* * *

Christine was finally given official notice that the theater was closing down. She was permanently out of a job, although they hadn't had much work for her anyway. After taking a couple of days to mourn, she filled out applications at two clothing retail stores and a business that sold soaps and lotions.

Raoul was paying her rent and utilities. Without a job, though, Christine now couldn't afford her phone bill. She was embarrassed to tell Raoul, but he was going to find out anyway if her phone were suddenly disconnected.

He came over to hang out one evening, bringing a large cheese pizza with him. After they were settled on the couch with plates and napkins, she let him know. Mouth full of pizza, Raoul shook his head as though she were silly. He swallowed and said, "I'll add you to my plan. No worries."

"Give me the cheapest plan," she insisted. "The cheapest everything. I'll stop playing games on my phone, so I use less data."

"Don't worry about it. Play all the games you want."

"Once I get a job, you have to let me pay you back."

"I will." She didn't really believe him. "Do you want to keep the same number?" he asked.

She hesitated. "Um. Maybe change a digit or two. I get telemarketers. And my mom had some debts that I'm being bugged about. And…"

"And what?"

She hadn't thought about it for a while. "It hasn't happened in a long time. But, over a year ago, someone would call me and not say anything. It was probably a computer, autodialing me. What was even stranger, though, was that the calls looked like they were coming from my contacts, like coworkers or friends. When I'd ask those people, they'd say they hadn't called." An unexpected shiver ran up her spine as she recalled the memories.

"That is pretty weird. We'll definitely change the number."

When they were finished eating, they curled up together and began flipping through television channels. She passed some local stations. "Your dad has been busy, huh?" she asked.

"Yeah. Who knows?" Raoul shrugged. He didn't like to talk about his father very much.

"What's up with SCI being raided?" she asked, too curious to back down. Christine remembered how excited everyone had been when SCI revealed their first successful clinical trials. SCI had been called groundbreaking, the first step toward medicine of the future. "Aren't they a nice company who put sick people in virtual reality?"

"I thought so," said Raoul. "There's a rumor that someone kind of unsavory was in there. But that's all I know."

"Hm." They decided to try the first episode of a new television drama. Christine got up once to make some microwave popcorn. They snuggled up together beneath a soft blue blanket. She felt warm and safe in the dim room with the glow of the television. The show was a little boring, but who cared?

When it was over, Raoul grabbed the remote control and turned the channel. "Now it's basketball time!"

"It is not basketball time!" she exclaimed, making a grab for the controller. "I don't know one team from the other." He refused to give the remote control to her as she climbed over him. He tickled her ribs with his free hand, and she squealed. "Just for that, we're watching "Bridesmaids.'"

"Noooo!"

They laughed and wrestled around on her nice, new couch. She wound up beneath him, her face red and warm. She continued to giggle. He smiled down at her. "You are beautiful," he stated.

"You're not so bad yourself," she replied, giving him a lopsided smile.

He brushed her tangled hair out of her face and gave her a kiss. It deepened, and she shifted beneath him on the cushions, his sturdy body pressed against her own. They continued for a little while, and he pressed several kisses to her neck, both the front and the sides. He drew back, breathing heavily, his hands still tangled in her hair. Her pulse raced, and she could see the desire in his eyes. She swallowed and smiled, slowly pulling herself up. He moved off of her. "Everything okay?" he asked, still catching his breath.

"Yeah! Everything is great. That was really nice." She nervously played with the edges of the blanket.

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah! Well. Uh, it's a little embarrassing. It's just…that between my dad and my mother and working and everything…I haven't had many boyfriends. And I haven't had one in a while. Not since high school, and I wasn't with him very long. It was never very serious." She hoped he got her meaning.

He seemed to, eyes widening slightly. "Oh. Oh, Christine. That's cool! Yeah, I totally get it. I think that's great. I mean, not that it would have mattered either way."

"Thanks." She looked down. Of course it was going to be awkward. "I just wanted you to know in case I seem, uh, not very experienced."

He shrugged. "I haven't been in many relationships either. Only one serious one. And it doesn't matter. We'll take it slow, like you said. It's cool."

He turned toward her, placing a hand against her cheek, and they kissed for a while longer. She supposed that she would be ready in time. Raoul was amazing. It had just all moved so fast.

And she still wondered if things might change when Raoul went back to school. He would be surrounded by pretty girls who had the kind of money that he did, who didn't depend on him to pay for their utilities. Who could afford to go on expensive vacations and ski trips with him. He would also be busy with schoolwork and extracurricular activities. And then there was the political life that would always surround him.

Christine was still deciding where to go after community college. Assuming she and Raoul stayed together, she would try to enroll in a university fairly near him. She tried not to worry about it too much. For now, she enjoyed the calm gentleness of the relationship. She could get through most days without crying and with only a faint pain in her heart.

Christine snuggled up against him, put her head on his shoulder, and closed her eyes. "Hey," said Raoul, still teasing her. "If you're sleeping, I can watch that game."

She grunted at him but didn't care what channel he turned to. She fell asleep.

She didn't know how long she slept, but Raoul eventually turned to the news. Or the game ended and became the news. In any case, the broadcast broke into her slumber. "—was retired Police Captain Nadir Khan. He's being held on charges of bribery and corruption, although we're not sure of the details regarding this case yet…"

She opened her eyes. There was a picture of Nadir Khan on the screen. Her eyes widened, and her head shot up.

He was the officer she had seen that night at the theater. The one who kept saying, _"I promise it will be okay."_

"Something wrong?" Raoul asked, glancing at her.

"No," she slowly replied. "I'm fine." She was too tired to explain.

She went back to sleep and forgot.


	11. Chapter 11

Here we go again. And, yes, we're fairly close to an important meeting ;)

 **Read and Review!**

 _His_ first observation was that the number of corrections officers who guarded him was within the normal range, two to three. This meant that they did not see him as a great threat. Which also meant that Khan had only informed the authorities of the one murder as opposed to _his_ entire repertoire. That made sense. Whomever Nadir bribed would not have agreed to this if they had known everything.

His second observation was that the hospital staff had absolutely no idea as to what to do with him. They were unfamiliar with SCI protocol. The hospital summoned unfamiliar employees from SCI who explained that, "He should be able to move soon. We kept his muscles electronically stimulated. But each patient is unique in how fast they gain their strength back. Since he's nearly emaciated, it could take a very long time. He may remain weak."

 _Hahahaha._

Final observation. He could lie there like a vegetable. And no one second-guessed it.

 _His_ greatest threat was that Nadir would eventually tell the authorities just how dangerous he was. But there was no way to prevent that now. He had to be patient while his hideous body recovered.

Per SCI, his muscles needed to be exercised daily. The electrical stimulation had kept them from atrophying, but he still required physical therapy. Yet the police also wanted to keep him restrained. So they went through the trouble of procuring a longer shackle.

Three officers were present when the physical therapist arrived. "Can you move your arms or legs?" the therapist, a middle-aged male, asked. The therapist made some effort to hide the revulsion on his face, subtly keeping his eyes lowered so that he did not have to look at the living corpse.

 _He_ refused to grace the doctors or therapists with responses. Instead, he stared at the ceiling, motionless.

The therapist unhappily asked, "Is he being stubborn? Or did they give him a lobotomy over there?" The officers shrugged and seemed equally uncomfortable.

With gloved hands, the therapist forcefully extended his arms and legs, working his muscles. It was painful, but what did that matter?

When no one was paying attention to him, such as late at night in the darkness, _he_ would subtly exercise his muscles. To the point of exhaustion and agony. He relentlessly pushed himself, determined to speedily recover his strength.

He refused to answer any of the questions that the police asked him. He barely said a word to anyone. As far as they were concerned, he was nothing but a corpse.

His death wish faded. Anger and hatred replaced it. Who had dared to pluck him from his paradise of ignorance? Who had taken him from the grassy green fields and the bright blue skies? He really, really, really, wanted someone to answer that question. He would make someone answer that question.

All in good time.

His anger only intensified over the following nights. Getting through the day-to-day hell of playing an invalid was wretched enough. He was hooked up to a feeding tube, and only male hospital staff attended to his other needs. No woman wanted to be near him, and that was for the best. But mortifying monotony eventually turned to sadism.

Who doesn't enjoy a good game of torture the freak?

 _He_ had been exercising one night as he always did, counting down the days. There was voice in the hallway. An unfamiliar female voice. "I thought you said we were going shopping," she whined.

One of the officers replied. "I have to show you something first. You're going to love it."

Another officer said, "Shit, man. If anyone finds out about this, we're getting fired. Why the hell did you bring her up here?"

"It'll just take a second." He spoke to the girl. "Baby, you have to see this. It's a real dead body."

She scoffed. "Why would they have you guarding a dead body?"

"I dunno," he replied. "Maybe they think the zombie apocalypse is upon us. Maybe all the dead bodies will rise up to feed on human flesh."

"You're an idiot," she said.

 _His_ door squeaked open, letting in the hallway light. He closed his eyes and lay perfectly still.

A pause. "Ew!" she exclaimed. "Ew, ew, ew! I'm going to be sick. Ew. Oh, God." She made a gagging sound. "Why isn't that in the morgue? It doesn't even have a nose!"

"I told you. Zombies!" the officer teased. "Why don't you give it a little poke? You can use this."

"This is gross. Why is a dead body in here?"

"Give it a poke, and then we'll go shopping."

"You are such an asshole." Silence. Hesitant footsteps. _He_ felt a light poke against his ribcage. He stayed still, determined not to give the vile officer any satisfaction. "There," she said. "Happy?"

"You have to poke harder than that."

"Why?" A pause. "What are you doing?" she asked.

"Just checking up on the corpse." The officer leaned in beside _his_ ear and whispered. "You fucking move the next time she pokes you. I want to scare the hell out of her. Get it?"

 _He_ gave no response but felt himself tense. It was going to be difficult to resist killing anyone. But it would all work itself out in the end…

"Okay, do it again," the officer said to the girl.

She made a noise of disgust. _He_ felt a slightly harder poke but remained motionless.

"I am going!" she exclaimed. "This is stupid." There was a clatter as she dropped the instrument he had given her onto the floor. "You can spend the night by yourself."

"Baby, wait!" the officer called. Quick footsteps, high heels, walked away. The officer cursed, walked back to the bed, and then spit into _his_ face. A punch in the stomach, enough to knock his breath away. The officer hissed at him, "Next time I say move, you move. Don't forget who's in charge here, freak. I'm going to be with you for a long time."

Years ago, he had been tortured. For weeks. His whole body still bore all the evidence. This was nothing compared to that.

"Now move!" the officer snapped at him.

 _He_ refused.

Silence. Something cold grazed his arm. Suddenly, _he_ had no choice but to flinch. A jolt. The officer had used a stun gun. _His_ heart pounded as he resisted the bloodthirsty urge.

"Move," said the officer. "Or I will put this somewhere that'll hurt a hell of a lot more."

 _His_ eyes opened. He grabbed the officer's wrist, his bony fingers wrapping entirely around it. The officer froze.

"I moved," _he_ whispered. While he had had fewer opportunities to exercise his voice, it was slowly coming back. "Happy?"

It took a moment for the officer to find his voice. "Let go of me, you freak, or I will shoot you in the head." With his free hand, the officer reached for his gun.

"Tempting. But, no. Not yet." _He_ released the officer's wrist.

The officer spit on him again but left, obviously shaken.

His patience was waning. He had been debating how to go through with the final part of his plans. His desire to have some fun got the best of him, especially after that incident, and he decided to be a little more elaborate than he had originally intended. It was riskier.

But much more entertaining. Only a few details still needed to be worked out.

He was soon cooperative with the physical therapist, indicating that he was slowly recovering. Still, he made sure to appear as pathetic possible. He moaned in pain when they forced him to complete the simplest of tasks. They all cringed at his wretchedness, looking as though they wished to put him out of his misery.

"Did that guy really kill someone?" he once heard a physician ask in the hallway, his voice low. "He looks like he couldn't lift a fly swatter."

An officer replied, "That's what they say. But maybe he just scared someone to death with that face."

They all uneasily laughed.

 _He_ did have mental escapes during the long, slow hours. The Other Place. Sometimes he would attempt to rediscover his memories of that world, as strange as they were.

And he remembered Christine. As the pharmaceuticals had left his system, his feelings intensified. And he did not know yet…what he would do…now that they were in the same world again. The thought teased the edge of his brain. She was out there, mere miles away.

He could not think of her too often. When it came to her, he was weak and soft and sick. Just picturing her face in his mind made his pulse race and his body restless. Even a year of brainwashing had not erased his desire for her.

Still, he needed to be in control right now. So it was best not to think of her.

Until later.

If he could help it.

One night, the sadistic officer brought his friends up there, to gawk at the freak. Again, the officer used the stun gun. They laughed as the freak reflexively twitched. Someone took a picture of the freak's face with a phone.

And the freak waited patiently.

* * *

It was getting warmer out. Christine enjoyed the sunshine on her face. Until spring showers blanketed the city. Stuck inside, she completed final papers and homework assignments. And filled out applications for universities. And applied for scholarships.

Sometimes Raoul would come over, and they would hang out, and make out, in front of the television. The rain wasn't the only thing that kept them inside. The media kept bothering Raoul over the governor's actions. Raoul repeatedly told them that he didn't have anything to do with his father's decisions.

"What do you think of what your dad did?" she asked one night. "I'm just curious."

Raoul shrugged. "I mean, I guess if people are doing criminal things, they should be arrested, right?"

"I guess so." She still didn't know enough to form an opinion.

A few more details leaked out. SCI denied all wrongdoing. They claimed that they didn't know the patient was a criminal. All the blame was placed on Nadir Khan, who had an unknown relationship with the patient.

And then another detail came out. While no photographs had yet emerged, the patient was rumored to be "disfigured beyond belief."

Christine grew weary of the news and tired of staying inside working. No one had called her back about her job applications. The economy in the city wasn't doing so well. Everything seemed gloomy.

Until, finally, the sun literally broke through the clouds.

"We should do something outside," said Raoul over the phone.

"I agree! Let's have a picnic," she said. "It's been forever since I've done that."

"That'll work. Hey, maybe I could bring a volleyball net."

"With a volleyball?" she joked.

"Nah. Just the net."

Christine giggled. "I'll make sandwiches," she said, already delighting in this idea. "And potato salad. And cookies."

It was nice to focus on something so carefree and happy. She eagerly prepared for that day.

* * *

They finally assigned a female to _him._ Perhaps they were short-staffed. Perhaps she had lost a bet.

 _He_ had a new observation. She wore bobby pins in her reddish brown hair.

Like all the others, she avoided looking at him as she worked, her face squished up with distaste. By that point, he was no longer hooked up to feeding tubes. When no one was staring at him, he ate the disgusting food that was served, just enough to gather his strength. As far as they knew, _he_ could slowly shuffle across the floor and take care of other requirements. So her job was limited to checking his vital signs.

When she came in the evening, he spoke to her. He whispered in the darkness, "I think something landed in your hair. A big black spider dropped from the ceiling. And into your lovely hair."

She flinched and gasped. Her hands flew up to her head. Her fingers rapidly combed through her hair.

"I think it is out," he said. "Or perhaps I was mistaken. Perhaps it was a speck of dust."

She shivered and glared at him. Without a word, she turned and left. He never saw her after that. But no matter. Two bobby pins had fallen from her hair, right at his bedside.

 _He_ continued to make just the right amount of progress for the therapist.

Until the sadistic officer finally said, "You're leaving this place soon. You're going to jail."

With timidity, he softly asked, "Will you be escorting me?"

The officer laughed. "Yes, I will be. I'll give you a proper introduction to your new home. Don't worry."

 _He_ grimaced and turned away, as though frightened by the prospect.

This made the officer laugh harder.

 _He_ silently laughed, too.

* * *

Nadir Khan had emigrated from Iran in the 1970's. His parents had been close to the Shah and sensed what was coming, escaping the country before the Revolution. Nadir remembered feeling fear as his father scrambled to gather all the proper documentation. He remembered relief when they finally climbed onto a plane and embarked on a new life.

His parents, especially his mother, kept many of their traditions. Yet they had also allowed him, an only child, to be at home in the United States. They had encouraged friendships and extracurricular activities. They had encouraged him to pursue any career or field of study that he wished. They were a little more critical of his girlfriends (and that had been one of the ways Nadir pursued teenage rebellion – dating a girl who liked to dress like Madonna) but they certainly hadn't disowned him. Had he married someone outside of their faith, they would have supported him. Alas, he had never been ready to settle down, and that had given his mother more heartache. No grandchildren.

In any case, his parents, both deceased now, has instilled in Nadir a very grey-colored view of the world. People were rarely completely good or evil. He had taken that view with him into the police force. He had been told that he had an 'analytical mind' and a 'thoughtfulness' when approaching complex matters.

And this was all before Nadir had met Erik.

Erik had made him see the world in ways Nadir had never wanted to. Disturbing ways.

Erik was not a good person by most definitions. He was a criminal. A manipulator. A borderline sociopath. The reason people locked their doors at night.

And yet Erik had been fed and clothed by the criminal world since a young age. He had been abandoned by his mother, forced into horrific situations to survive, fed drugs, tortured physically and psychologically… without friends and without family.

Most people, having gone through all that, would either be dead or utterly irredeemable.

And so when Nadir did witness a flicker of good, a flicker of brilliance…of beauty…of humanity, he was left questioning everything. Nadir had cried over the dissonance. He had had many sleepless nights because of it. And he never knew what to do when it came to Erik.

All of this put together – and Nadir was never sure why he didn't tell the authorities the truth about Erik after they were both arrested. Perhaps Nadir simply forgot, lost in his own self-pity and worry. Perhaps the possibilities didn't quite click in his mind. Maybe he assumed Erik really was too weak to be a threat. After all, Nadir didn't completely understand SCI's procedures regarding muscle stimulation.

Or, deep in his subconscious, had he wanted Erik to escape? Did he not want Erik to suffer the fate of being an animal in a cage, paraded all over television as he was forced to go through a trial and sentencing?

Nadir never knew the truth. Negligence versus criminal intent is sometimes a difficult thing to prove. Even in one's own mind.

Nadir was surprised when they told him he had a visitor who was not his lawyer. He has seen far too much of his lawyer over the past few weeks. Nadir had been prepared to plead guilty, but his lawyer insisted that they had to navigate this situation carefully. What could the government prove? What could they not prove? The answers to these questions meant the difference between ten years or life in prison. Nadir didn't know whether he cared anymore. But he supposed he might like to see the outside world one last time before he died.

When he found out who the visitor was, his heart jumped in both fear and anticipation. Nadir was released from his cell and, in shackles, led to a room with about ten round tables. The walls were painted an ugly green color, and there were no windows. After directing him to a table, the younger correctional officer stood at the door, watching. Nadir's visitor entered and approached.

"Why are you here?!" Nadir exclaimed in a hushed voice.

Gabby took a seat. She started to put her hands in her lap, but the officer barked, "Keep your hands where I can see them!"

She flinched but obeyed. Her eyes looked tired. Who knew what she had been through? Nadir felt horrible for her. "What are you doing here?" he asked, dismayed.

She said, "We're old friends, Nadir. At least we were until you used and coerced me. And I want to know why you did that to me. Why did you put me through that?" Their eyes met, and she subtly winked at him.

Nadir understood. She was coming here under the pretense that she could extract information from him. He played along. "I did it because I'm a terrible friend. And I have too much time on my hands." She gave him a weak smile. "How are you doing, Gabby?"

"Not so well," she admitted. "The press and the police keep trying to get information out of SCI. And, of course, SCI is completely innocent in all this. So it's just not fair. The company lawyers are doing their job, though."

"Good." It was hard to get out the next question. Nadir didn't want to know. "Any word on…?"

Gabby nodded. She softly replied, "That's why I came. They're taking him to jail today. He's recovered somewhat. But, from what I've heard, he's still so weak. It sounds like he can barely defend himself. I wanted to let you know what was happening."

"Oh." Nadir's heart clenched.

"It's strange…"

"What is?"

"We kept his muscles stimulated, as we do for all the patients. When the patients first wake up, they are feeble. But, once their muscles are exercised, it shouldn't take them too long to recover. SCI has the whole process down to an art. But Erik is still barely able to walk. Maybe it's because he's so thin?"

"Huh." A little wheel began to spin in Nadir's brain. "I thought maybe you didn't keep his muscles stimulated. Because, unlike the rest of the patients, he was never supposed to wake up?"

"No, we follow a general protocol. It's healthier for the patients to have stronger muscles. That's what all those little white patches on his arms and legs were for."

"Huh." The little wheel spun faster. "I thought those had to do with the System."

"They have dual purposes." She shook her head sadly. "I'm going to try to visit him. With everything I have, I'll try. I'm so worried. About his trial. His sentencing. It keeps me up at night." She sighed. "And I feel bad for Meg. She's tired of people asking her if I did anything illegal. At least she's distracted by her latest performance. I wish you could see her. She dresses like this white fairy. And she's so talented. She wants a dance scholarship, but I warned her that they're pretty hard to come by. She might have to take out loans. But I really want her to pursue her dreams. You only get one chance to-" Gabby tilted her head. "Are you okay, Nadir?"

His hands gripped the edge of the table.

"What's wrong?"

"Gabby, how are they transporting him to jail?" he whispered.

"Hm?"

"How are they transporting Erik?"

"I don't know. Why?"

Nadir's heart pounded. "How many officers are guarding him?"

"I'd have to ask. I haven't been allowed to see him. One of the doctors at SCI was summoned over to the hospital to give an opinion about whether Erik could be discharged. The doctor approved and was willing to tell me about the situation. I think Erik is being treated like any other prisoner. Except he's so weak, they'll have to help him walk and-"

"They don't know," interrupted Nadir. "They think he's ordinary. Because of me, they think he's ordinary." He didn't want to say it out loud. But he was thinking - _Erik is faking it. He's faking weakness._

"What?" she whispered. The corrections officer was eyeing them closely, probably sensing the tension. "I don't understand."

Nadir spoke as vaguely as possible. "You kept his muscles stimulated?" She nodded. "Then I think he is doing just fine."

"But-"Her eyes slowly widened. Her mouth fell open. "Oh. Oh my…Wh-what do I do?"

"You can't do anything."

"He could be hurt," she said, hands clenching into fists.

"Unlikely," said Nadir. _Others will be._

They stared at each other, frozen.

 _People are going to die. A few? Many? Shit._

It was that thought that forced Nadir to finally act. He looked at the officer. "Sir?" he respectfully began. "I believe lives may be in danger. Is there a way you could get me into contact with a supervisor or someone at a higher level? This is important."

The officer squinted at him. "What is this regarding?"

"The suspect at the hospital. They're moving him today. I don't think they understand the nature of the patient."

"The situation is under control, I'm sure," the officer replied. Nadir started to stand. The officer approached, a hand raised. "Sir, please calm down. Take a seat."

Nadir obediently sat. But he did not calm down. "People may die if you don't listen to me. Do you understand that?"

"I think this visit is over now," said the officer, clearly becoming tense.

"I agree," said Nadir. Gabby needed to leave and remain uninvolved. She had put herself and SCI at risk by coming that day. She gave him one last pleading look as she left. He had no reassuring words for her.

The officer escorted Nadir back to his cell. Nadir tried one last time. "You need to let me talk to someone. Before it's too late."

The officer eyed him suspiciously. "I'll ask my supervisor."

Nadir paced in his cell. He sat. He paced again. He ran his hands through his hair. He waited, stomach turning.

Hours later, the same officer approached him. This time he was with another man, a supervisor, who was older and taller. Their faces were white.

"He knew," said the officer, pointing his index finger at Nadir. "He knew what was going to happen."

"How did you know?" asked the supervisor.

"What's happened?" Nadir asked.

"What do you know?" the supervisor retorted.

"I know a lot," Nadir replied. "More than you can imagine. It'll take me hours to explain. What's happened? You need to start with that, so that I can tell you how to respond."

The supervisor grimly replied, "They've lost all contact with the vehicle that was transporting the suspect from the hospital to the jail. If you know something, you need to start talking now."

"They've lost all contact?" Nadir slowly repeated. _Too late._

"What do you know?!"

In a low voice, Nadir replied, "I know that people are dead. I know that he's long gone. And I know you're not going to find him. Unless he wants to be found." Nadir shook his head, disgusted with himself and the rest of the world. "He's the most dangerous man I've ever met. And the smartest. And you people couldn't leave him alone, could you? No, you had to prove to Erik that mankind really is out to get him. I'm sure he's in a fantastic mood. I really mean that. He's going to enjoy himself over the next couple of weeks. Let everyone know that they should be terrified!"

"Why didn't you say something earlier?" asked the supervisor through clenched teeth.

"I think it's time to call my lawyer," snapped Nadir. "The government wants me on their side? After the mess they've made? Call my lawyer. Then I'll play this game."

"What game?"

"Erik's game."


	12. Chapter 12

Thank you for all your continuous support. It really means a lot, especially during a difficult and strange week.

The first scene is a bit gruesome. But I hope you enjoy the overall chapter.

I have been listening to The Piano Guys on Youtube, as I write this. I think their spooky instrumental combination of Adele's "Hello" and Mozart's "Lacrimosa" is a great theme song for this chapter. Especially the last section...Enjoy!

 **Read and Review!**

They had forced him into an ugly, oversized orange uniform.

As _he_ walked away from the police van and into a coniferous forest, he still wore it. His hands were covered with drying blood. He could smell it, the metallic taste nearly sitting on his tongue.

The blood was not his.

He had been wheeled out of the hospital, slumped down into the chair as though he were the most pathetic and fragile creature. They had practically had to lift his body into the police van. Three officers, including the sadistic one, accompanied him. The sadistic one sneered at him and gripped his shoulder roughly.

 _He_ had waited until they were far down the highway and near exits that led to campgrounds and forests.

Discreetly picking through the locks in his handcuffs and shackles had been simple enough. _He_ had then slumped down into the seat, choking and making it appear as though he would gag on his own vomit. "Help me!" he had weakly called out. "I cannot breathe!"

 _He_ really should have won an award for the entire performance. The sadistic officer, who was driving the van, had pulled over with an annoyed sigh. Two of them came out of the vehicle as _he_ continued to twitch and moan. One of the officers had leaned over his convulsing body.

Too close.

Before they knew what had happened, he had possession of one of their guns. And then it was really all over. For them.

 _He_ had killed one of them instantly. The officer had been about to draw his own weapon. _He_ shot him once in the shoulder and once in the head. He tossed the body in the back compartment.

 _He_ shot the sadistic officer in the leg, disabling him before he had time to climb out of the van. The other one was now unarmed and terrified. Within moments, _he_ had all three guns in his possession. _He_ slammed the head of the sadistic officer against the window during a brief struggle, rendering him nearly unconscious and bloody. The other officer was younger and more docile, less willing to fight back. _He_ handcuffed them. He found a utility knife and used it to cut off black strips of the dead officer's uniform, which he used to gag them. He destroyed and discarded all communications and GPS devices that he could find. Time was limited, but he still planned to enjoy himself. There did not appear to be witnesses. He had worked quickly.

 _He_ drove the van off the highway and into the woods; there was very little traffic nearby. Still, he was prepared to flee at any time. Overcoming three officers was easy. But an entire SWAT team? That would certainly be more of a challenge.

For the next few minutes, out in the pine tree covered woods, _he_ had some fun with the sadistic officer in the backseat of the van. "Now I am moving," _he_ said, crouching beside the vile idiot. "Does that please you? Erik always aims to please."

Finger bones were snapped. _He_ found a small utility knife. Perfect. A couple of fingers were cut off. A middle finger. A thumb. Blood. Bone crunching. Skin was carved into. The sadistic officer screamed through his gag. The other officer watched in horror, whimpering.

 _He_ grinned. "Ah. Here is your precious stun gun. Do you mind if I try it out? " And _he_ did, pressing it against the officer's cheek. The sadistic officer twitched violently. _He_ then carved into the officer's cheek, sending a rivulet of blood over his face. "I want to cut off one more piece of you. And then I will put you out of your misery. You decide. An eye? Your tongue? Lower and lower. What shall I take?" The sadistic officer groaned. "Your choice." The sadistic officer gave no response, only made sounds between whimpers and screams. "Fine. If you do not have a preference, I will take more than a piece." _He_ sliced off the tip of the officer's nose. Then gouged out one of his eyes. The sadistic officer shrieked as rivers of red poured from the socket. Then _he_ put the idiot out of his misery, shooting him in the head.

Grim and empty satisfaction followed. His hands were so very sticky.

A memory. The Other Place tickled the back of his mind - _"Oh! And we have our monthly picnic next Saturday at the park next to the duck pond. We get together and hang out, and everyone brings a dish. We play volleyball or badminton. It's fun."_

It's fun. So fun.

 _He_ slowly turned toward the remaining officer. All color had drained from the young man's face.

 _He_ said, "You know, mere months ago, I was playing volleyball in a park. It was jolly good fun. At least I think it was." He leaned toward the officer's face. "Now. Instead of playing with a volleyball. I am playing. With this." Grabbing the bleeding corpse by its stringy black hair, _he_ held up the mangled face of the sadistic officer. "So," _he_ continued. "If they would rather have me playing with this imbecile's face, then that is fine. I will play. I will play all night. But, my friend, I need you to answer one question for me." A pause. "Who wanted the monster back? Who dared disturb my peace?" _He_ ripped off the officer's gag.

The officer only stared in horror, perhaps in shock. He sputtered out an answer. Tears dripped from his bloodshot eyes.

 _He_ continued, "I don't have much time. Do you want to end up without eyes and a nose? Except I won't put you out of your misery. I will leave you alive. I would talk if I were you."

"Please. Please don't," the officer begged in a raspy voice. "I have children. Please."

"And why should I give a damn if you have children? In fact, admitting that puts you in a weaker position. You have invited me to threaten them, too." The officer's eyes widened in horror. "You poor idiot. This is all very simple. Answer my question. Who wanted me back?"

After hesitating, the officer shakily whispered, "The Governor. He wanted this. He's cracking down on crime."

"Ah." He considered this. "Governor Chagny. Well, I am flattered that it is someone so high up in the food chain. If some local sheriff had requested this, I would have been rather insulted. But the Governor missed me. Wonderful."

"Please," begged the officer. "Please, please, please."

"No worries. I am off, my pathetic friend." _He_ started to climb out of the van. In the distance, he could hear sirens. "But relay a short message for me when they find you. Will you?" The officer quickly nodded. "Tell them…Hm. Let's keep it short and simple and crude. Tell them they fucked with the wrong freak." The officer nodded again.

And so _he_ left. With blood-covered hands. Still in that awful orange uniform. Armed and ready. He waited until dark to return to the city.

* * *

Nadir's lawyer was the only person that appeared happy over the coming days. At first, the state would only agree not to pursue the maximum penalty. Once they all realized what they were up against, the legal deal became even sweeter.

"This is all working out well for you," his lawyer said, giving Nadir a pat on the shoulder.

Yet Nadir felt no satisfaction.

They soon received word that two correctional officers were dead. One shot. One mutilated. One was alive but an incoherent mess. Erik was nowhere to be found.

Nadir felt ill. All his choices within the last months came back to haunt him. He gave the authorities enough information to understand what they were dealing with. "He's an assassin. A former hitman. One of the best I have ever seen. Honestly, I don't know what he's going to do next. It depends on how he views all this." Nadir took a breath and admitted, "If he's angry enough at the government, he might go for something like a bomb."

They all stared at him in horror across a long conference table.

"Why the hell did you protect him?" a police lieutenant asked. "I don't care what kind of deal you're getting. The fact that you aided and abetted this monster is a disgrace!"

Nadir calmly replied, "Erik was fine until you people dragged him out of SCI. He was no danger to anyone. Now he sees you as the enemy. So I can't really take the blame for all this."

"But why would you help him in the first place?!"

Nadir gave them part of the truth. "Years ago, he gave me valuable information regarding important cases. He had inside knowledge of many criminal circles. A lot of the arrests we made were because of him. Do you remember the human trafficking ring we broke in 2007? Or the child pornography case in 2009? Erik gave me the intelligence that led to all those arrests. He was valuable when it came to certain crimes. And sometimes willing to work with me."

"That doesn't matter," said the lieutenant. "Now he's murdered two officers! He's dangerous."

"Yes," said Nadir. "I agree. He's on a path of destruction now, and this is all out of control. I want to prevent more deaths. I will work with you to find him."

And Nadir did try to help. He tried to pinpoint where Erik might hide. Or what Erik might do next. Nadir knew Erik's days were numbered, and he tried not to think about that. It was heartbreaking. But now that two officers were dead…Well, choices were limited.

Still, in retrospect, Nadir really could not be much help at all.

Because Nadir did not know about her yet.

He did not know about Ms. Christine April Daae.

And everything would soon be all about her.

* * *

 _He_ had been away from the city for over a year. Yet the stench of exhaust and moist asphalt and despair was still familiar. It seeped into his pores. All around him were the homeless. The addicts. His people.

 _Welcome back, Erik_ – the city seemed to say.

He had washed the blood from his hands in a lake. But he was still trapped in that dreadful orange costume, which made him stand out in the night. While his main home had been in the theater, he maintained hideouts throughout the city. In abandoned buildings and basements and the cracks and crevices of society. Like a brown recluse.

Most of his old hideouts were undisturbed. He quickly recovered his clothing. A black suit jacket and black pants. A black undershirt. He found a black mask that concealed his entire face. He nearly felt like himself again. All of the instruments, tubes, and wires were out of his body. He only needed a few more days to recover his physical strength.

He gathered several USB drives that would be useful in the coming days. He grabbed his weapon of choice, a length of catgut, but kept a gun nearby at all times.

Despite knowing there might be a police presence, he finally returned to his theater. Surprisingly, there was only one patrol car. Perhaps they had already searched the building. He easily crept back inside.

It was obvious that the theater was going to be torn down soon. There was a yellow DO NOT ENTER sign on the front door. Most furniture had been removed, save for a few plastic chairs that were tipped over. Water dripped from one of the ceilings in the hallway. The interior smelled of mustiness.

All of this meant that Christine would never be back here. He felt a new crack in his sanity at the realization. He would never see her sing here again. This place was dead. Just like him.

He returned to the rooms deep down below. Behind layers of doors and twists of hallway. No one had been down here for months. Perhaps no one had been down here since he had left. Dust had gathered on his piano. He sat at the bench, fingers hovering over the keys. Would he remember now?

Yes…yes he could still play. It was all back. The only piece of himself that he had missed. He easily played the song Christine had sang so often. Then he played the song he had written for her, swaying to it as his fingers flew across the keys. Yet even music gave him little peace.

How he ached for her.

The last note of his song echoed.

 _Silence._

His spidery hands dropped into his lap, and he sat at the piano for a few moments. It was so very quiet.

Everything had been taken from him.

Now it was time for retribution.

Being careful with his digital footprints, _he_ broke into the office of a nearby building to use one of their computers. He read everything he could about Governor Chagny.

Born in Philadelphia. Private schools. Undergraduate at Dartmouth. Law degree from Harvard. Corporate lawyer. Then politics. Deceased spouse. Two sons, the elder of whom was also in politics. Governor Chagny had run his entire campaign on being tough on crime. And was now making good on his promise. The state and city seemed to support him, although there was some pushback.

Now there would be a great deal of pushback.

 _He_ would start with the basics. Over the next several hours, he unleashed viruses onto the governments' intranets. He called in a couple of favors to people who were less than thrilled to hear from him. Many state bank accounts would be drained by morning. The social security numbers of all the state employees would be sent to the darker side of the Internet, sold to foreign crime communities for identity theft purposes. Their computer systems would be a disaster, causing a complete shutdown of some services for several days.

He had more plans. He still needed to send a final thank you card to Governor Chagny.

Yet his drive to find her eventually outdid his need for immediate revenge.

It was harder than he expected. Her apartment was cleaned out and vacant. He discovered an obituary for her mother in the online archives. When he called Christine's number, the phone line was no longer functioning. Upon calling her a second time and hearing an automated voice, _he_ threw down the untraceable phone. The screen cracked as it hit the pavement. Anger flooded his whole horrible body. Not only had his blissful ignorance been stolen from him, but now she was gone, too. Everything had been taken. Every single piece of joy.

Struck with a debilitating pain in his heart, he finally took half a rosy red pill just to make it go away. That gave him a slight boost.

While he didn't have plans for following through with any actual fireworks, _he_ orchestrated bomb threats for the following morning.

Let them at least panic. Let them feel fear. And despair.

What was his end game?

To ruin the Governor and then kill himself? Is that where it would all end?

Where was Christine? Perhaps her school would have her new address in their system. Perhaps...

He crept into an alleyway, arms folded against his chest. He slumped against a brick wall and took a seat on the damp concrete. He remembered that mountain and the dark-haired girl. Alice and Wonderland.

 _"We're almost at the top. Let's go this way. I think you'll like it."_

 _"It's so perfect that it's almost like someone painted it."_

He looked at his dismal surroundings.

It was obvious that no one had painted this place.

No, the real world was still the hellish horror that it had always been.

* * *

Within twenty-four hours, the whole city went a little crazy.

The buses were late. There were bomb threats. Two correctional officers had died. Someone had hacked into all the government systems. It was a little scary.

All Christine wanted was to finish up her papers and applications in peace. Listening to classical music helped her focus and stay calm. Meanwhile, everyone, from her classmates to the people who passed her on the street, appeared extra anxious. The events taking place had even made the national news. Christine started to avoid television altogether.

The day of her picnic arrived, and she was determined to have a worry free day of fun. Humming to herself, she made her sandwiches with ham, turkey, mayonnaise, lettuce, and tomato. She found her father's recipe for mustard potato salad and whipped that up. Then she dug out her grandmother's chocolate chip cook recipe. The whole house soon smelled of sweet dough baking in the oven. Soon all her food was assembled in Tupperware containers with pink lids. Christine slipped on jeans and a purple peasant top blouse, then twisted her hair into a ponytail.

She smiled at herself in the mirror. Today would be a good day. She would see to that.

Raoul picked her up early in the afternoon. He looked a little disheveled, his face unshaven and eyes red. Christine leaned over and gave him a hug. "Everything okay?"

He shrugged. "Not really. My dad is going crazy. He is really pissed off. I'm sure you've seen the news."

"Any idea what's going on with everything?"

"Uh. Eh. I'm not really supposed to say right now. Maybe I'll tell you later." He forced a smile. "Let's have a great day, all right?"

"Definitely! Yeah, no more talking about all this depressing stuff."

Raoul drove them to a nearby park. Kids were playing on the orange plastic slides and rubber swings. Ducks had returned to the pond after a winter spent away. There wasn't a cloud in the sky. Christine spread out a checkered green cloth on the moist grass. "Your food looks awesome," said Raoul. "Thanks for putting all this work into it."

"You're welcome! Thanks for everything you've done for me."

They ate and chatted about the week. Her schoolwork was all finished. "I'm still looking for a summer job, though," she said. "I have an interview at a dentist office for an admin assistant position. That could be good."

"Yeah. Don't worry about it too much. Focus on getting into school."

"Yeah. But I don't want to be sitting around doing nothing all summer." She hesitated. "Sometimes I think about trying to find another theater. Or finding some way to sing again. But—"

"You should!"

She shrugged. "I don't know. I still don't feel like I have it in me." Before he could protest, she said, "Hey, let's set up that net."

He eagerly agreed.

They forced the metal poles into the dirt ground and straightened the netting. Christine hadn't played volleyball since high school gym class, so Raoul was better than her. They played for nearly an hour, until her hands and fingers were sore. It felt great to run around and laugh. The sun shone brightly above them. A cool spring breeze brushed against her forehead.

It all ended when she went after the ball, jumped into the air, and landed on her right foot too hard. "Ow!" she cried out. Christine fell back onto the grass and looked at her throbbing ankle.

Raoul ran over. "Are you okay?"

"I think so. I think I just twisted it a little." She grimaced as her skin turned purplish.

"Do you need to go to the doctor?"

"Nah." She stood. It was a little sore, but she could walk on it. She leaned against Raoul. "I guess that's it for the day, though."

"Yep, I'd say that does it. That was fun." He helped her pack up her Tupperware into a canvas bag. There was enough food left for another meal. Raoul dismantled the volleyball net. He brought that back to the car while she carried the ball and the bag. She walked with a slight limp.

They had nearly reached the street.

They were met by a cameraman and a female reporter. "Oh, great," Raoul muttered. He shook his head and quickened his pace.

"Mr. Chagny! Mr. Chagny!" the reporter called. "I'm with KVQE News. We have a couple of questions for you."

"I'm not taking questions." Raoul put up his hand. Christine nervously headed for the passenger's side.

The reporter didn't give up. "But what do you have to say about allegations that the escaped SCI patient may have something to do with the massive state computer hack. Are they true? Can you confirm? We can't get confirmation from the Governor's office. What do you have to say about this?"

"I don't know anything. I can't talk to you." Raoul opened his door and climbed into the car.

The camera focused on Christine for a moment. She gave it a nervous smile and then ducked inside the vehicle, too. The car automatically locked. Raoul shifted into drive and sped away.

"Is that true?" she softly asked, clutching her purse. Her heart was beating quickly.

"Huh?" His tone was abrupt.

"Is the patient doing all this?"

"I don't know. Maybe," said Raoul. "That's what some retired cop is telling everyone. But I have a hard time believing that one man could be doing all this. So does my dad. They're all arguing over it. Who knows? Please don't tell anyone else. They're trying to keep it hushed up."

"I won't," she murmured. There was a tension in the air. She attempted to break it by adding, "Well, I hope I don't end up on the news. My hair is all messy, and I'm sweaty."

Raoul laughed. "I'm sure you'll still look beautiful."

* * *

 _Ring, ring, ring._

 _Ring, ring, ring._

"Hello?"

"Good evening, Governor."

"Good evening. Who is this?"

"Governor, do you know what it is like to have all your happiness stolen from you in one night? Do you know what it is like to have your joy ripped away by the hand of another? Do you?"

"Who the hell is this? How did you get this number?"

"Governor, I am going to show exactly what that is like."

"Who the hell is this?!"

"Au revoir."

 _Click._

* * *

In the late afternoon, they got back to her apartment. She invited Raoul to stay for a while. "If you want to."

"That sounds good," he said. "I don't really want to be around my dad right now." She gave him a kiss, letting him know that it was all going to be okay. He pulled her in closer. Then they hugged each other for a long moment, warming each other. She still felt unsettled.

Christine plopped onto the couch. She stretched her arms over her head and yawned.

"How's your foot?" Raoul asked.

"A little sore, but I think it'll be okay."

They watched television for an hour and a half, a sitcom that was several years old. Sometimes she dozed. Raoul played with his phone. It grew darker outside.

Raoul stood. "Should I go grab us some dinner? Maybe Chinese or something?"

While Christine was still full, she could tell that he was having a hard time relaxing. He wanted to keep busy. "Yeah, that sounds great. Maybe some sesame chicken? And fried rice?"

"Sounds good!" He bent down and gave her a quick peck on the lips. The door opened and closed as he left. She yawned again and fell back asleep.

A phone rang, but it wasn't hers. She opened her eyes and sat up. Raoul had left his phone there. She looked at the screen. His father was calling him. She ignored it. It stopped ringing.

Then it started ringing again. His phone did this three times. Finally, Christine answered. "Hello?"

"Who is this?" The Governor sounded upset.

"This is Christine. Raoul left his phone at my apartment. He went out to get food. He'll be back soon."

"Where is he? What's the name of the restaurant?"

"I don't know."

The Governor cursed, startling her. "You tell him to call me when he gets back. Then have him stay there until the police arrive to escort him home."

"What's going on?" she shakily asked.

"Just have him call me when he gets back!"

"But-" The door opened behind her. Then quickly closed. "Oh, wait. I think he's here."

It had only been ten minutes, though. Why was he back so soon?

 _Oh! Probably to get his phone._

"Great." The Governor sounded very relieved. "Put him on the line."

Christine turned around to greet her boyfriend. To tell him that his father desperately wanted to talk to him. To ask him what was happening.

But it was not Raoul who had come inside. It was not Raoul standing in her doorway.

It was not Raoul staring at her in a way that set off every warning bell in her mind.

Her mouth fell open. The phone slipped from her hand.

A voice, from both Heaven and Hell, said - "My God. You are absolutely beautiful! And I have found you, my love. I have found you!"

She didn't have time to run or scream.

He was too fast.

She was too shocked.

And she simply could not have known that this Creature's life had revolved around her for the last two years.


	13. Chapter 13

Happy Holidays! And thank you again for the amazing response on that last chapter. This chapter sets us up for the middle portion of the story, the POTO-themed part, but the SCI plot will remain. We still have a long ways to go, so there's plenty of time for character development – for those of you who are worried about Erik's…uh…issues ;)

 **Read and Review!**

After his lawyer took part in heated negotiations, Nadir was allowed to go home with the promise that he wouldn't leave the city. He fully intended to keep it. He was still facing a couple of years in prison, but bail had at least been reset at a reasonable amount.

For the first time in weeks, he entered his apartment. It smelled dusty. As Nadir locked the door, he felt his nerves get the better of him. It was dark in there. He switched on the nearest light.

Erik was on the loose. Gone were the days when Nadir could quit glancing over his shoulder and jumping at every creak.

Would Erik come after him? Nadir had no idea. He had another gun in the closet but knew that wouldn't be enough. After a moment's hesitation, he still loaded that pistol and put it in the drawer where the other had been.

He knew that he should call Gabby soon and offer her some words of comfort. Nadir was too tired that night. Plus, he didn't know if he had any words of solace for her. Erik wouldn't allow himself to be taken to prison. So Erik would either wind up dead or…

Or what?

Nadir opened his freezer to see if he had anything to eat. Microwavable macaroni. What had he been thinking when he'd bought that? He picked up the frozen cardboard box, wondering if he could force the orange glop down. It had to be better than jail food, right?

His cell phone rang just as he put the macaroni in the microwave. _Now what? Shoot me._ "Hello?" he tiredly answered.

"Mr. Khan?"

"Yes?"

"This is Detective Levy. I told you to call me if you'd thought of anything else."

"Yes. I remember. I haven't thought of anything. If you've searched the theater and the surrounding buildings, I can't give you a better target. We'll have to see if he makes himself known." _Please don't make yourself known._

"I'm calling because he has made himself known." _Shit._ Nadir's stomach turned. "The Governor received a threatening phone call tonight." The detective explained the nature of the call and what was said. Before he had finished speaking, Nadir was already back in his car and driving toward the city.

"Where is the Governor's family right now?" Nadir asked.

"Close family? His eldest son is several states away. We're searching for his youngest son, Raoul, right now."

"You find him and protect him. Have a least ten officers near him at all times."

"We're on it. Any other ideas?"

"Keep the state government buildings safe. Protect the governor's mansion. Watch for suspicious devices. Have a bomb squad ready to go at any time."

"Jesus Christ."

"I know," said Nadir. "I'm trying to account for everything. I'm on my way to help."

Nadir made it back to the police station. Many of the officers, some of whom were his former colleagues, refused to look at him when he arrived. Nadir knew they felt betrayed. He was escorted to one of the back offices. Phones constantly rang as news and information were relayed back and forth. A very tense hour passed while state and local police searched for the Chagny boy. Nadir drank a cup of weak coffee and offered advice where he could. He tried to think like Erik would – _The world is out to get me. So I'm going to make everyone as miserable as possible. As miserable as I am. What would I do next?_

Unfortunately, his thoughts never went much further than that. Nadir was not Erik. Thank God.

A phone call came at around 8:30 PM.

An officer answered and listened for a long moment. "Really? That's…more than we could have hoped for." He sounded relieved. A pause. His voice became confused. "What? That's strange. No, I don't know. I don't know anything about that. Okay. I'll let everyone know."

The officer stood up and turned toward the crowded room. Everyone quieted. "They found Raoul Chagny. Alive. He was knocked unconscious. Pretty bloodied and bruised up. Broken arm. But they think he'll be okay. They're taking him to the hospital."

Nadir released a breath of relief. Every muscle in his body unclenched. Maybe Erik had just been trying to scare the living hell out of the Governor. Mission accomplished.

"That's not all, though," continued the officer. His brow furrowed.

"What do you mean?" Nadir asked.

"It looks like Raoul's girlfriend is missing. Christine Daae. Relatively unknown girl. I mean, no political connections or anything like that. They can't find her."

Nadir felt a cold wave of fear. "That doesn't make any sense. Are they sure?"

"Yes. Raoul is conscious and asking about her. The Governor says that he was talking to her, and then they were suddenly disconnected. After that, no one has heard from her."

Nadir rubbed his forehead, trying to understand. Because this didn't make any sense. Finding Raoul Chagny's mutilated corpse would have made more sense than this.

Erik avoided women. Erik had once stated that he did not understand women and did not want to – they were too weak and emotional. Nadir sensed that this was Erik's way of protecting himself from rejection. Nadir also suspected that Erik's mother had skewed Erik's perception of females. It was all very sad but…Well, what woman would want anything to do with Erik? He was terrifying to look at, and he had a frightening and unstable personality.

In any case, Erik did not go around kidnapping young girls. "Something doesn't make sense," said Nadir to the rest of the room. "Find out more. Maybe she ran away to get help. Maybe she's at a neighbor's house. Or hiding. I'm sure she's nearby."

Over the coming days, though, Nadir would find out that he was dead wrong.

That girl was gone.

What could Erik possibly want with her?

Of course, Nadir's mind traveled to some very dark places. What if she had gotten in Erik's way that night? What if she had started screaming, and Erik had permanently silenced her?

Nadir tried not to assume the worst. He really did.

But that was hard.

They found photographs of her and distributed them to all officers. Nadir stared down at the smiling girl, her blonde hair in a ponytail. She wore a pink top with yellow roses. Her eyes were bright blue. Nadir's stomach twisted into a knot. His thumb left a print on the picture.

 _Now my actions have hurt you, too, Christine. I am so sorry._ _I will do everything in my power to find you. Please hold on._

* * *

She felt more wonderful in _his_ arms than he ever could have imagined.

Before putting her in the backseat of a stolen vehicle, he paused to admire each inch of her. Her little nose that twitched every so often. Her fluttering eyelashes. Her lips. The way her hair curled around her ears. Her skin was so smooth, a reddish tint in her cheeks. He nearly wept with delight. The part of him that had been forever missing was now with him.

He wore leather gloves and would not allow his death's skin to touch her. But he could still feel her warmth.

He had not intended on retrieving her so quickly. Her new address has been in the community college database. Once he had confirmed this, he had become somewhat single-minded. She was the only good in this world, so much sweeter than revenge. She was his single chance at happiness, at peace of mind. And he simply had to see her again.

In the night, he had returned to the little cottage and begun to prepare it. He ensured that the home still had electricity and running water. He dusted the tables and vacuumed the floors, refusing to hire anyone and risk revealing himself. No one could know of this place. He added fresh flowers and made sure the baubles and decorations were arranged properly. He made certain that her bedding and clothing still smelled clean and fresh. He stocked the refrigerator and cabinets with food that she might enjoy. Only the best for Christine.

He had planned to slowly reveal himself. To take his time. But that plan was decimated when he had seen her on television.

 _With that despicable boy!_

The son of the Governor. It was a strange and cruel twist of fate. No, not only had the Governor taken _his_ ignorant bliss. Governor Chagny's vile offspring had also stolen _his_ beloved.

Upon seeing this, he had hurled a glass of red wine at the television. It shattered against the screen. He had screamed obscenities at the ceiling.

His path became very clear. He would execute the Governor's youngest son. And take back _his_ Angel. The Governor would suffer. _He_ would have victory and joy. A perfect plan.

He had easily found her apartment and parked beneath a large tree. The shadow concealed his black vehicle. In the late afternoon, he had watched them go inside together and gripped the steering wheel, glaring hotly. It took every ounce of self-control to restrain himself. He did not want to think about them inside that apartment together. The Chagny boy was probably touching her…kissing her. _Disgusting!_ How dare Chagny lay a hand upon her?! Chagny should not even speak her name.

But _he_ had found patience and waited. Until Chagny had emerged hours later.

 _He_ had made the call to the Governor.

Then _he_ had attacked, pulling the boy behind one of the apartment complexes as the sun set. His hands wrapped around the boy's neck. Chagny struggled and coughed and choked – writhing pathetically like a fish on a hook.

But - _he_ hadn't gone through with the final death sentence. Because of her. Somehow _he_ knew that, if she ever found out, she would not forgive. The thought of her caring about Chagny angered _him_ all over again. So, instead, _he_ gave Raoul Chagny the beating of his life. _He_ had made that boy scream in pain, snapping one of his arms.

 _He_ had considered taking Chagny for a ransom and to make the Governor suffer a little longer. But no. Then _he_ would have had to feed and pay mind to a worthless hostage.

And _he_ only wanted her. All his attention had to be on her. So he had left Raoul Chagny in an unconscious pile. Before leaving, _he_ whispered, "If you ever come near her again, I will cut off every one of your fingers and toes. And I will stuff them into your mouth like marshmallows. Do you understand? She is mine now. You will never see her again."

Then _he_ had gone after his beloved. She had not put too much of a struggle, only stared in shock. A hoarse scream had escaped her lips as he neared. Her hands rose to defend herself. She had taken a step backward. But the needle soon pierced the soft skin of her upper arm, and he had put her into a gentle sleep. He took her home. Where she belonged.

And not with that little idiot.

As he laid her upon the soft, red sofa in the cottage, he was even more certain of this. He covered her with a yellow felt blanket and put a feather pillow beneath her head. He admired her for a long time as she slept. She was so very precious and perfect.

Christine eventually stirred, rolling onto her back. She sweetly sighed. Then she distinctly said, "Dad?" She opened her eyes and stared up at the ceiling. "Wh-?" She slowly sat up and looked from side to side with wide eyes.

"Are you cold?" he asked, quickly coming to her side. "I can retrieve another blanket for you. Yes, let me find you another blanket."

Her head swerved as she looked at him, and she blinked. Her mouth fell open. To say she flew off the sofa would not have been an exaggeration.

 _Oh, dear…_

Well, he should have anticipated this. And he had. Somewhat.

If she would simply stop screaming and half-running, half-limping around the room - he would calmly explain that -

 _Oh, dear._

He allowed her to try the secured door. She threw herself against it several times. _Thud, thud, thud._ "Do not hurt yourself," he pled. "If you will simply…Darling, will you kindly stop screaming? I cannot even understand your questions, but I will be happy to answer them. Darling…" She gave up on the door. He followed her into the kitchen.

She backed into the corner beside the sink and looked at the counters, perhaps searching for a weapon. There were none. He had thought ahead and knew she would be a bit upset about this at first. Christine put up her hands into half-hearted fists. Sobbing, she said something that he could not understand.

"What, my love?" he asked.

"Are you going to k-kill me?" she whimpered between gasps of breath.

His eyes widened. _How ridiculous!_ And yet that memory from months ago brushed against his brain. He shoved it away. "Oh, no! Never. I will never hurt you. I will not even touch you again. Do not fear me."

"What do you want?!"

"I want to do nothing but love and delight you."

She sobbed even harder. Again and again, she said, "Please let me out. Let me go! Please let me go." Every time he moved to come near her, she shrieked. She pressed herself into the corner. "Stop! Leave me alone! Please let me go!"

He had never lowered himself before anyone. Ever. Yet he did so now. He sunk to his knees, so that he was just slightly shorter than her. It had a positive effect. Her loud sobs turned to quiet sniffles, and she stared at him. "I will not hurt you," he gently explained. "I merely…I wished to be with you. I wished to be in your company. I love you."

She rapidly shook her head, tangled hair flying in all directions. "But I don't know you. I don't know who you are."

"But you do, in a sense. I watched you for so long. I saw you in "Sleeping Beauty."" He then named all the productions he had seen her in. "Your voice is beautiful. Heavenly. I have always noticed you."

"Your voice," she whispered after a moment, glancing to the side. "Are- are you an electrician?"

He chuckled, delighted with her. "I am the one who spoke to you that night, but I am not an electrician. I am Erik! And I am merely your devoted servant. Nothing more."

She stared at him, eyes slowly widening. "You were there all that time. Oh my God." Her face collapsed again. "The phone calls?"

"I simply wanted to hear your voice."

"The roses…"

"Lovely flowers for a lovely girl," he replied. "Did you like them?"

"And I felt someone. I felt someone watching me! And I thought…" She again shook her head from side to side. "Oh, God. Oh, God! No, no."

"Yes! I adored watching you. And I needed you nearer to me. I want to hear your voice every day. I abandoned you once, my darling. I was…Well, that does not matter now. I will not leave you again." He reached out toward her.

"No! Get away from me!" she yelled.

He leaned back on his knees. He slowly stood and took a step backward. Perhaps this was not working out quite so well. Yet. "If you…if you would like some time to yourself, your room is over there," he said, pointing. "In that corner. There is a bed." She blanched at the last word. His chest tightened, and he felt a bit ill, too, as her horror became his horror. "No, no, no. I will not touch you. Ever. The room is for your privacy. You have clothes in there. And books. So you may rest and adjust."

She looked between him and the bedroom door as though trying to decide which was worse. "I want to go home," she said.

"This is your home now, my dear. You will learn to like it."

"No!" she cried. "Please. I won't tell on you. I won't even go to the police. I'll just go home. No one will ever know about this. Please. Please take me home."

"You are home," he calmly repeated. "We are home in _our_ home. Now would you like dinner?"

She loudly half-sobbed, half-screamed. She was so very spirited and lovely. Then Christine ran past him. She slammed the bedroom door. She locked it.

"I will make you dinner," he called.

She was likely crying too loud to hear him.

His hands were shaking. Why must she weep like that? All he wanted to do was make her happy. As happy as she made him. He adored having her there. Why couldn't she feel the same about this ideal arrangement?

Ah, yes. Because he was a hideous freak of nature.

He suddenly wished that he had his face from the Other Place. That would make everything much better, he was sure. Christine would love that handsome face.

 _He_ was plunging down, down, down again. The floor was falling out from beneath him. He had tried not to take too many of the pills. Just a half of one now and then when this world became too much – so that he did not plummet completely into darkness.

Her sobbing continued. He felt nervous, wrong…out of place. Sick. Couldn't she see how much he adored her? He would give her everything, far more than vile Raoul Chagny ever could.

 _He_ surrendered and took half a pill, and that eventually made him feel better. A little rise back up into the sunshine. That was all he needed.

 _Oh, yes. There it went._ _There we go._ Yes, everything would be just fine soon. Everything would be perfect. He had his Christine, and she was all he needed. _Yes, yes, yes._

* * *

It was hard for Corey to focus on his job.

Once his Connection was established, he woke up in the same place that he always did. A bed with a midnight blue covering, beneath a picture of a seagull perched on a grey rock. Here, he didn't need glasses or contact lenses. There was a weightlessness, a slight numbness. He rubbed his eyes and got up. He printed a list from his computer, the locations he needed to inspect that day.

He tried to block out what was happening in the real world. Officials had finally confirmed that the terror in the city was all the work of the escaped SCI patient.

 _Two officers dead…Facial mutilation…beyond belief…Monster in our community._

Corey first went to the section of town with the restaurants. Visuals looked fine, although he noticed a rounded edge to the some of the square buildings. The error wasn't too apparent, but the programmers would want to look into it and make sure it didn't worsen. The echo of some of the sounds was too loud. The passing traffic sounded like it was going through a tunnel. Corey made a note. Lighting looked okay. Reflections looked fine. Smells…they could always improve there.

Corey bought a hot pretzel from one of the bakeries. He interacted with the artificial intelligence who worked at the counter. "How are you doing today?" he asked her.

"I'm good," the program replied, giving him a smile. She looked a little like a Barbie doll, although her proportions were more realistic. "And yourself?"

"I'm doing excellent. How's the weather been around here?"

"The weather has been nice and warm. Sunny and in the upper seventies."

Sometimes Corey liked to mess with the A.I. a little bit. "So what do you think about global warming? Manmade or natural occurrence?"

The program blinked at him. "I don't have the answer to that question. I'm unable to understand. Would you like cheese with your pretzel?"

"Is it delicious cheese?"

The program smiled and replied, "Yes. Our cheese is very delicious."

Corey inwardly laughed. He exchanged fake dollars for a fake pretzel. After thanking the program, he left. He bit into the soft dough and shook his head. Smell and taste. No matter how hard they tried, SCI could never quite capture the real thing. Corey soon tossed the pretzel into a garbage bin.

He looked around at the people on the streets. The patients. They all seemed happy here, smiling and chatting, on their way to work at the university. Did they remember what the real world was like?

 _Christine Daae. Twenty-one-year-old female. Missing. No sign of her. Desperately searching. The Governor's battered son was devastated - "Please keep an eye out for her. She's a wonderful person. The best person I've ever met. I love her. I miss her. Please help me. One million dollars to anyone who comes forward with information."_

Erik. Corey had had drinks with that guy. Corey had befriended him, for God's sake!

But maybe that Erik didn't even exist.

 _I need to focus._ Corey walked to the park and checked off other items on his list. Water flow looked good. Sunlight was okay. They could brighten it a little. Sky was fine. Everything seemed a little darker, but that was probably the result of Corey's mood.

He met up with his friends that evening. They cheerfully talked about work and having another picnic. Alice had a wake up soon, and she was looking forward to seeing her parents. Corey drifted in and out of the conversation.

He glanced at the piano. The empty piano.

 _Had Erik really been a musician and an athlete? Or had SCI added those positive qualities? Was the Erik that Corey had known nothing but Daniel's creation?_

"You are so quiet tonight," said Alice, nudging his shoulder with her elbow. She sat beside him at the bar. "Is everything okay?"

Corey looked into her eyes. Alice had known Erik, or at least the fake Erik, better than any of them.

Alice seemed to handle things well. Like everyone, she had her rough days, but Corey had never seen her break down or severely overreact to a problem. But - could she deal with this?

What was Corey supposed to say? _Remember that guy, Erik, who came here a while back? You were friends with him. No, you don't remember. Because SCI wiped your memory of him. Why? No big reason. Only because he's a murderer. He cut an officer's face up like a pumpkin. He assaulted the Governor's son. He just kidnapped a girl. I'm sure he's not doing anything horrible to her. If she's still alive. That's all. Didn't you spend some time alone with him? On behalf of SCI, I apologize for the utter creepiness of this entire situation._

"I'm fine," said Corey. "Some personal stuff is going on."

Alice didn't look like she believed him. "All right. But let us know if we can help."

Corey felt his face warm with shame. He felt more distant from these people than he ever had before.

When they left the bar around midnight, Corey watched as Alice cast a glance toward the piano. Her eyes lingered on it. Corey froze. But then she turned away and moved on.

Corey said nothing.

When he returned to the real world, the police still hadn't found Christine.

Corey wished that he could help.

He would soon out find that he could.

Just not in the way that he wanted to.

* * *

 _Stalker!_

 _All that time. Oh, God. All that time. A tall, emaciated man in a black mask had been watching her…following her… all that time._

That year replayed in her head, and she saw it through brand new eyes. Why hadn't she been smart enough to see it before? Had she really thought her father's ghost was with her in the theater? Had she really believed that the roses were from some nice young man? And that the phone calls were only a telemarketer?

But maybe hindsight was twenty-twenty. Maybe there was no way to make all those connections.

What did it matter now? She was screwed. Trapped. She was probably going to die here. Huddled in a corner of the bedroom, too terrified of the bed, she sucked in her breath. What could she do? She didn't see a phone or computer. She couldn't get out the front door. There was no back door. There were hardly any windows. There was nothing! Breaking down into sobs again, Christine stood and yanked the comforter off the bed and wrapped it around herself. She grabbed a lavender pillow and leaned it against the corner. She sat on the floor in a nest made of bedding, trembling. It was a way to be more comfortable while remaining upright and alert.

The sound of a piano rang out from behind the door. She had seen the instrument in the living room. A shiny black grand piano. Her eyes narrowed as he began to play a very elaborate version of the song she had always sung to herself. _Unchained Melody._ Christine stared forward, simultaneously entranced and horrified. After that, he played other golden oldies that she had sung while alone. Then some of the pieces she had sung on stage. He remembered all of them, even better than she did. He played them perfectly. The smooth melodies wrapped around her as tightly as the blanket.

Who was this man? He was obviously not stupid. He was incredibly talented. He had an excellent memory. How was she going to escape him?

The piano silenced. She froze.

He spoke from behind the door. "Darling, I am going to leave some pot roast and potatoes right here. And cookies for dessert. Do you like oatmeal raisin?" He sounded very enthusiastic.

She didn't respond.

"Do you want me to bring you another blanket?" he asked. "Are you cold?"

"No!" she shouted, drawing her knees up into her chest. "Leave me alone!" Would the locked door really keep him out? She doubted it.

Back he went to the piano. This time he played a variety of classical songs, some of which she didn't recognize. At times, the pieces were impossibly fast, making her heart hammer. Sometimes they were slow and soothing, and she had to work to stay awake. Every so often, he would stop playing and ask her a question in a cheerful voice that made her want to slap him.

"Do you like coffee or tea? Do you like cream and sugar?"

"Would you prefer romance or mystery novels? What do you want to read?"

She refused to answer. How dare he act like this was all normal and acceptable? What was wrong with him?

A lot. Obviously.

And she also hated the fact that his voice was so...pretty. Okay, more than pretty. He had the most beautiful voice that she had ever heard, and she hated that she liked something about him.

 _Because he had done this to her!_

Hours later, she got up and used the bathroom in her room, keeping an eye on the door. Fluffy pink rugs rested across the polished tiles, and the porcelain sink and toilet were spotless. She searched the wooden drawers for something sharp or dangerous. All she found were fingernail scissors. Great. She could give her kidnapper a manicure.

Christine looked at her haggard face in the mirror. Her eyes were red and swollen from crying.

She momentarily fantasized about escaping. She would find a heavy object and hit her kidnapper in the head, knocking him out, just like in the movies. Then she would escape this house and not stop running until she found Raoul. While Raoul drove to the airport at ninety-five miles an hour, she would tell him everything. They would catch a plane. She would call the police. And then everything would be okay.

Reality returned. She was still trapped in this room, staring into a mirror.

The bedroom had a tiny circular window, about the size of a watermelon, near the ceiling. Judging by the changes in the light and dark, Christine thought about twenty-four hours had passed. He had never slept. While he was in the middle of a song and clearly distracted, she cracked open her door. Several plates of food sat at her feet. The cookies and pot roast and some strawberries. What if he had drugged them?

She look at his back as he furiously played the piano. He was erratically swaying back and forth, his head lolling from side to side. Was he simply crazy? He seemed even more excitable and volatile than when she had first arrived.

She grabbed the strawberries, closed the door, locked it, and returned to her corner. She nibbled at one strawberry, running her tongue over the rough skin of the fruit to see if it tasted strangely. It didn't. She ate them. Then she just sat there. Sometimes she could lose herself in the music. Once she nodded off during a slower piece. The song made her eyelids heavy and her cheek snuggle up against the pillow. Christine snapped awake and looked from side to side. She didn't want to sleep. _He might come in…_

"You ate your strawberries!" he happily called out. "Do you want more?"

"No." Again she tried, "I _want_ to go home! Take me home! Let me go!"

A pause. "Would you enjoy hot cocoa?"

She slammed her head back against the wall in frustration and then regretted it. _Ouch._ Famous cases of kidnapped women played in her head. At worse, if he were truly insane, she would wind up tossed in a dumpster or buried in a field. At best – what? She would tell her story on some Thursday night news special, about how she had survived and what she had been through?

A panicked voice in her head asked: _Why me? Why? I didn't do anything to deserve this._

A calmer voice replied: _None of those girls did. You're just another victim among many._

The panicked voice replied: _I don't care. I just want to live through this. Please let me live. Please let me live._

The calmer voice said: _If you have a chance to run – run. If you have a chance to knock him unconscious…do it. You have to. If you want to survive._

The panicked voice merged with the calmer voice and murmured: _I will._


	14. Chapter 14

Not much to say about this one. Very POTO :) Thank you all!

 **Read and Review!**

The authorities looked everywhere for her. Multiple buildings. Alleyways. The sewers. Ditches. Fields. There were no witnesses, no evidence. Her purse was lying on a chair in her apartment. Her phone had been dropped on the carpet. There was no way to track her.

The attacks against the city and state also came to a halt. Of course, that was a good thing. But what did it mean? Nadir had no idea.

It was 6:30 on a Sunday evening when he heard a knock at his door. The sound made him very nervous, although he doubted Erik would actually bother to knock. When Nadir looked through the peephole, his eyes widened in surprise. _Really?_ He unlocked and opened the door. "Mr. Chagny?"

"Raoul," said the young man. His face was still red and bruised. His arm was in a sling, and his eyes were very sad. "I found someone who knew your address. I wanted to talk to you."

"That's fine. Please come in." Nadir moved out of the way, gesturing for Raoul to come inside. "You'll have to forgive the mess. This place is…I wasn't expecting company."

"It's fine," said Raoul. He stood in the entryway.

"Would you like anything to drink?"

"No, thanks. Can we sit down?"

"Sure. Um, does your father know you're here?"

"No," Raoul replied. "Screw him."

"All right then." Nadir moved a wrinkled bathrobe off his sofa, and they both took a seat. "How can I help you?"

"I need help finding her." Raoul stared at the worn carpet. "Nobody else seems to know what they're doing."

"I'm so sorry," Nadir replied and meant it with all his heart. "But I've told the police everything that I know. I don't have any more information. Everyone is doing their best."

Raoul scoffed. "Are they? My father won't help. He think she's… dead." His voice caught. "Even if she were alive, he says he won't negotiate with a terrorist. I hate him right now." Raoul looked back up. "You're the only one who seems to know anything."

"I know some things," said Nadir. "I don't know enough to find her. I wish I did."

"Why were you protecting him in the first place?"

"My reasons for protecting him were highly compli—"

"No," Raoul harshly interrupted. "Look. Everything that's said here will stay here. I'm not going to get you into any trouble, no matter what you say. I want real answers."

Nadir sighed. "But it's true. I had a very complex relationship with Erik, both professional and personal. In any case, I have to insist that your father isn't exactly innocent in all this. Forget the ethics of whether Erik should have been in SCI. No one was hurt by him being there. Now people are dead. I am so sorry about Christine. I really am. But I won't take full blame for everything."

"You won't take blame," said Raoul, bitterly. "My dad won't take blame. Everyone wants to be right. No one wants to help me get her back."

"That's not true. We're all doing everything we can." Nadir paused. "Except…"

Raoul's head jerked up so fast that Nadir feared he had pulled a muscle. "Except what?"

"Well, your father is certainly going after this in an all stick and no carrot sort of way." Raoul squinted at him. "What I mean is that your father won't negotiate. He wants to take Erik down. But what if that's impossible? What if we have to incentivize Erik to come back? To return Christine?"

"What does _Erik_ want?" Raoul said Erik's name as though it were a curse word. "Money?"

"No," said Nadir, still thinking this through. "I don't think Erik wants money. But he was happy in SCI. I'm almost certain of this. If we agreed to let him return to SCI…to leave him alone…"

Raoul grunted. "My dad will never allow that. I couldn't care less what happens to that freak, as long as Christine is back. But my dad wants Erik dead or in prison."

"What the Governor doesn't understand is that it's not exactly easy to kill Erik or to lock him up." Nadir leaned forward, wondering if he could gain a valuable ally. "Look. I know it's a long shot. But you came here looking for unconventional solutions, didn't you?" Raoul nodded. "So let's at least think it through. Erik needs a reason to be cooperative. I don't believe he can be apprehended any other way."

Nadir was about to start a discussion, but Raoul softly interrupted, "Do you think she's still alive?"

"I don't know."

"No. I want to know what you really think."

"Well." Nadir paused. "Tell me about Christine first. What's she like? Is she a fighter? I know you told the police that you can't remember most of that night, aside from being attacked. But do you think she tried to protect you?" The idea that Christine had attempted to defend Raoul was still first in Nadir's mind. There was no ransom note or anything else explaining her disappearance. Nadir still feared that she had gotten in Erik's way and suffered the grave consequences.

"A fighter? Well, no. I mean, I'm not saying she's weak. I'm saying she doesn't take self-defense classes or anything. She's-she's a wonderful person. She's so sweet. I mean, I met her because she was trying to save this theater. She cared so much about it. And then her mom-"

"Theater? Wait. What theater?"

Raoul shrugged. "I don't know. They're closing it down now. I think it's…um…"

"The 6th Street Theater?"

"Yeah! That's it. How did you know?"

"Oh my God," whispered Nadir. "She was there. Had she been going there for a long time?"

"I think so. At least several years. Why?"

"Did Christine mention anything strange happening to her just over a year ago? Anything she found unsettling? Any weird occurrences?"

"Uh. Yeah, actually. She said someone kept calling her and not saying anything. It would look like her friends or family were calling her, but they weren't. It was weird. We changed her number."

"Interesting." _Erik would be able to do something like that._ "Anything else?"

"Not that I can think of. Why?"

"Listen," said Nadir. "I need you to think back to that night you were attacked. Did he say anything to you?"

"I can't remember."

"Try! Close your eyes and try."

As Raoul obeyed, Nadir returned to his own memories. He recalled how Erik had behaved in those days before he had been taken to SCI. Something had been wrong with him. Erik had been especially erratic and unfocused. He had spoken of angels' voices. He had seemed distant and distracted. No less dangerous. But perhaps a little less cold and detached. Nadir had blamed it all on the amphetamine. But what if it were more?

Now that Nadir thought about it…Erik had almost seemed like a man who was… _Oh, no._

"I sort of remember something," said Raoul, his eyes opening. His face was pale. "Barely."

"Tell me what you remember."

"Like a warning. Uh. He said that I shouldn't ever try to see Christine again. I remember that. And something about a marshmallow." Raoul shook his head. "It's obviously really mixed up."

"He tried to scare you away from her. It was all about her…"

"What?" Raoul frantically questioned. "What are you thinking?"

"I'm thinking that she's probably alive," Nadir murmured. Before Raoul could appear too relieved, Nadir added, "But I think this situation also became a lot more complicated."

* * *

Christine at first thought that she would never come out of the room. After the strawberries had no effect on her, she ate the other food he provided. She reluctantly admitted to herself that all of it was delicious, although the warm meals had grown colder by the time she reached out from behind the door to grab them. Savory chicken breast with a honey glaze. Strawberry shortcake. Moist blueberry muffins. A turkey and ham sandwich on white bread.

He never came into the room, never tried to touch or harm or assault her. Her crazed fear slowly turned into anger and aggravation. Hours and hours of solitude put some strange thoughts into her head.

 _You can cook. You can play the piano better than Beethoven. Surely you could have gotten a date without kidnapping someone. Let's make a deal. You let me go, and I'll create an eHarmony profile for you. Interests: Cooking, Music, Stalking. Maybe we'll leave that last one out._

Wrapped in the nest made of bedding, Christine allowed herself to fall into uneasy sleeps. She was always ready to jump up at the softest sounds. She took one minute showers, keeping an eye on the bathroom door the entire time, revealing as little of her body as possible.

The room had a closet that was painted entirely white, and the inside resembled a flower garden. Because half of the clothing had floral prints. Blouses with roses. Skirts with daisies. Christine looked at the tags. Designer brands. And far more expensive than anything she ever wore, save for the coat and scarf that Raoul had bought her.

She finally put on a plain yellow top and a jean skirt. She chose the simplest clothes she could find, finding all the flowers a little disturbing.

How much time had passed? A couple days? God, poor Raoul. He and the police had to be searching for her. Would they ever find her here, or did she need to make an effort to escape? Probably the latter. There were so many cases of missing people who were never found. She didn't want to be one of them.

Did she dare go out there? It would be so much better if she could convince _him_ to let her go, versus making a run for it. Yet she was too terrified to leave that room, to deal with his unyielding gaze and those unnerving yellow eyes.

It was something he said that finally made her come out. As he left a slice of chocolate cake and milk at her door, Erik stated, "Even though I never see you, it is of great comfort that you are here. I am so happy to have you here. So happy." He left.

Her eyes narrowed in anger. So even though she was trapped in here like a caged hamster, he was still getting something out of this? How could he be enjoying this situation? What was wrong with him?

A lot.

The following afternoon, she finally emerged, softly closing the door behind her. He was in the kitchen, cutting something with a large carving…knife. She quickly stepped back.

Erik glanced up and set the knife down. His eyes widened behind the mask, and it looked like he was going to pounce. She nearly ran back into the room. "You have come out!" he exclaimed. "Do you want food?" She took another step backward. "Oh, please stay out here with me. Just for a few moments. Let me look at you in your new clothes. Do you like them? If not, I will buy you other ones. Oh, you are so very lovely."

She inhaled and forced herself to stay in place. She used his name for the first time. "Erik." He softly moaned when she did that. "What do you want from me?"

"Your company, of course. Your presence. To gaze upon you. And to hear you sing again."

"How long do you plan to keep me here?" she asked, keeping her voice steady.

He avoided eye contact and replied, "Eventually, you may go outside. There are trees nearby. And a lake. Would you like me to set up a hammock for you?"

Her voice quivered. "No. When can I go home?"

"You are home, Darling. But we can redecorate, if you like. Perhaps put some more pictures up?" Erik turned around. "I am going to continue slicing this nice ham for you."

A part of her itched to throw a tantrum, to scream at him, but she resisted. He was obviously crazy, and she didn't want to push him, in case he did have a breaking point. Plus, he was holding a knife. She also wanted to go back to her room but resisted that urge, too. She had learned to be somewhat patient with her poor mother. Maybe that was going to pay off now.

So what did she do? After hesitating, she took a seat at the small, round kitchen table. She tried to obtain more information. "Did you work in the theater? Is that why you were there?"

"No," he replied, pleasantly. "I did not work there, except to give helpful notes to management on how to improve their ticket sales. Apparently, they did not listen."

"No," she agreed. "They're building a parking garage."

"A pity. Corporate interests always win, don't they? But no matter! You will continue to sing even without that theater."

"I don't really sing now."

He looked up. "Oh, but you must, my dear. You have such a beautiful voice. An angel's voice. We will remedy that together."

She looked down, not ready to get into an argument. Whether she sang certainly wasn't his business. "So why were you at the theater?" She continued her interrogation. "Just to watch the shows?" _And me._

"Yes," he replied. "And I resided there at times."

She blinked twice. "You lived in the theater?"

"Among other places."

"So you didn't have a job?" _Then where he did get the money for designer clothing?_

"I did not say that," said Erik with a chuckle. "But the details of my profession are banal. You were far more important than any _job_ I ever had."

Queasy, she wrapped an arm over her stomach. "Okay. But you're a musician?"

"Could you tell?" he asked, going back to her dinner. "Yes, I dabble in music a bit."

"You're very good."

"Thank you, Christine! Any praise that comes from you is so very precious."

She looked at the locked door. What could she say to get out of here? Christine glanced back at her captor. "Why are you wearing that mask?" she asked. He didn't answer. She guessed, "Because you don't want me to be able to identify you to the police?"

"Exactly," he immediately replied. "You are such a clever girl."

She had so very few angles to try. She experimented with one that she had already used, hoping she would make a better argument this time. "Like I said before, I won't go to the police if you release me. I swear to God. I will just go home. And not say anything to anyone." Humming, Erik set a plate of ham and mashed potatoes with brown gravy in front of her. Then a glass of water with three ice cubes. And a basket of rolls. She ignored the food and firmly kept going, "You have kidnapped me. And that is very illegal. So you really have to let me go, or you'll be in big trouble if they find me here." Erik continued to hum as he returned to the kitchen area and began to clean up. He opened the fridge and rummaged around inside. "People are going to be looking for me." She nervously swallowed. "I have a boyfriend. And he's the Governor's son. Did you know that? And he'll make sure the police find me. He's powerful. So you can see that—"

"I met him," Erik eerily interrupted, closing the refrigerator and straightening up to his full intimidating height.

The way he said it made her blood run cold. "What do you mean?"

"I suppose you might say that I ran into him. On my way to retrieve you. I disagree that he is powerful."

Her hands clenched. She hopped out of the chair. "What did you do to him?"

"He is alive."

"What did you do to him?!"

Erik shrugged. "That boy is so very beneath you. I think he has the intelligence of an acorn. The musical appreciation of a fungus. The depth of a puddle. You should have so much better than him."

" _What did you do!"_ she screamed, losing control.

Erik stayed calm. "I merely made him understand that you were mine. He will recover. I did no permanent damage. Everything is fine, Darling. I left him alive. Because I knew you would want that."

She stepped backward, shaking. "You…you're…Let me see him. Let me see that he's okay!"

"I suggest you simply forget him."

"Let me see him!"

"I dislike that idea. You must forget him. If he has an iota of intellect, which I doubt, he will forget you. Let us concentrate on more important matters. What would you like for dessert? Perhaps cookies?"

"Let me go." The volume of her voice increased each time. "Let me go! Let me go! _Let me go!_ " He refused to respond, and she cried in frustration. "What did I ever do to you?" she asked, sobbing and thrusting out her palms. "Why are you doing this to me?"

"Do not cry, Christine. I love you so much," he softly replied, a quiver in his voice. He now avoided her gaze. "I intend to make you very happy. If you will give it some time. You are rushing this. Won't you give Erik time to delight you?"

The whole attempt was a giant failure. Christine ran back to her room and slammed the door. She flung herself on the bed and wept. She had to escape, or she was going to lose her mind. If Erik had hurt Raoul, then he was dangerous! _What if Raoul were dead?!_ Her heart hammered as another panic attack threatened to grip her. She couldn't think like that. She had no evidence of it. She had to get out of here. She would deal with the aftermath later.

 _Okay. He said he would eventually let me outside. That's a chance to escape. When he's not looking, I can run. There has to be a highway nearby. Surely there's another human being within a couple of miles. I just have to get outside. He won't know which way I'm going. I have a great chance at getting away._

Christine eventually emerged again, determined to keep her cool this time. While he was playing the piano, a fast classical piece, she sat on the couch. Without a pause in his playing, Erik turned around. "Good evening, Christine!" She tried not to glare at him. "Do you need anything?"

"No."

"Would you like to sing?"

" _No."_

"Very well. Another time then." Erik played on.

For a while, she simply listened, allowing the music to sweep her away from her darker thoughts. Christine gazed around the room and finally noticed a large purple vase sitting atop a side table. It looked heavy. Fake white lilacs poked out.

She had never really hurt anyone before, never gotten into a playground fight. She didn't have any siblings that she had ever pushed down or slapped. It wasn't in her nature to physically fight.

But there was another reason that Christine hoped she could escape without injuring him. Erik was so desperate for her company. To a depressing extent. Was he really that lonely? Didn't he have any friends or family? She didn't want to feel pity for him, but sometimes it was difficult to help it. If the police asked for her opinion, maybe she'd suggest an institution instead of prison. That is – if Raoul were still alive. _Please let Raoul still be alive._

She had to get out of here.

Maybe if she were pleasant, he would trust her more. She didn't even have to lie. "Where did you learn to play so well?"

"I taught myself over the years."

"You didn't have lessons as a kid?"

"Oh, I had many lessons, my dear. But not musical ones," he cryptically replied. He was so strange. "Are you sure I cannot get you anything? All you need do is ask."

"Actually, hot chocolate sounds great," she said.

He sprung up from the piano bench. "Excellent!" Erik stared at her a moment. "Oh, I do love having you here. It is absolute perfection."

She reflexively looked down to avoid his stare. _Just a few more days, and she'd get out of this. She would never stop running._

* * *

He was so pleased when she finally began to emerge from her room. Having her in his line of sight warmed his frigid body. He enjoyed her scent as it wafted through the home. And her voice, when she spoke to him, and especially when she said his name, made his heart flutter. If only she would sing for him. Someday, she would.

He tried to take fewer of the little pills. Only when he overheard her crying would he need one. Just until she learned to be happy here. Someday soon.

Perhaps a bit of sunlight would improve her mood. It would brighten her sweet little face and paint that rosy glow on her cheeks. Still, he did not suggest it over the next few days until she came up behind him and asked, "Erik, when do I get to go outside?"

He inwardly cringed. While he knew she needed natural light, he disliked the thought of her leaving their little nest. But Christine should have grass and trees. "Tomorrow, I suppose," he said.

"Thank you."

He didn't want to threaten. He really did not. She would not be happy about it. But these were delicate matters, and he could not lose her. If he lost her, he would lose his mind. Without looking at her, he softly added, "Darling, I trust you will stay close and not leave your Erik." A pause. "But, if you do run, I will find the Chagny boy."

"What?" she whispered.

"I have no desire to lock you up forever. Or to obstruct your movement. I will not. I love you too much. But, if you leave me, I will find that boy. You will not get to him in time to save him."

She shakily breathed behind him.

"But that is enough of such darkness," he stated and meant it. "I know you will not leave me. So – let's not even dwell on it."

"Exactly," she murmured. He glanced at her. Christine was looking at the purple vase.

"Do you like it?" he asked. "It is an import from Europe. Quite heavy but very well made."

"It's nice," she softly replied.

He kept his word the next day. She emerged in a pair of jeans and a white blouse, all of which he had purchased for her, with sunglasses sitting on her head and her hair in a ponytail. She was absolutely lovely. "You may go out front," he told her. "I will watch you from here." He gestured to a small square window at the front of the cottage. He pulled up the blinds and unlocked the door. His heart pounded as she left him. Christine took a seat on the cobblestone walkway and remained there, staring out into the woods. She drew her knees up to her chest and rested her chin on them. He made a mental note to purchase a porch chair for her.

Having her in his life was another sort of drug. He was still furious over the SCI debacle, but Christine numbed the rage, to the point where he sometimes did not care.

He watched her the entire time. She returned, and he opened the door for her. "Did you enjoy yourself?" he asked.

"Yes," she said. "Thank you."

He vaguely remembered the mountaintop from the Other Place. "Perhaps some evening I will go with you, and we will explore the outdoors."

She looked at him with no expression. "That would be nice."

He wished she would smile at him. Long ago, he had seen her precious smile. But it had never been for him. Perhaps he did not deserve such a gift. Something harshly clenched in his chest.

He made her dinner and played the piano for her. She went to bed. He heard her softly weeping. He took half of a pill.

He did have another asset that might make her happy. His voice. He had not sung in front of another human being in decades. When his mother had been inebriated with her friends, she would sometimes make him sing. Her friends would clap and be very impressed. And they would say, "You should get this kid on T.V. He'd make millions."

But his mother would have none of that. She enjoyed humiliating him. She would force him to remove his mask or whatever facial covering he happened to be wearing. Her friends would turn away and make noises of disgust. "That's why I don't put him on television," his mother would reply, smugly. "Look at him."

After she had abandoned him, he had mostly sung in private. Because the sound of his own voice was more comforting than the silence. He had sung a few times to his victims. Just before killing them. Just for fun.

He did not know if he would share his voice with Christine. Perhaps it would make him even more of a freak.

Over the next week, he allowed her outside once a day. She would come out of her room for that, to eat, or to listen to him play the piano. Sometimes she would ask questions that he did not want to answer.

"Where were you born?"

"Baltimore."

"Do you have any family?"

"God, no. Family is wretched. DNA tying one to useless idiots."

And then – "Why did you disappear for a year?"

"I went on vacation." He would not tell her the truth. That he had been locked away in virtual reality. And experimented upon. And that he had enjoyed parts of it. There were many things she did not need to know.

Still, he thought everything was going rather well.

And then _that_ wretched evening arrived.

He remembered why he took a pill early that afternoon. He had heard her crying again. He also heard her praying through her tears, asking for something from a higher being - "Please help me, God. Please, please, please." He did not have the heart to tell her that no higher beings existed. This was all there was. Him. And her. In this lovely little cottage. Together until death.

So he took a pill to make the pain go away, to numb this reality. And then he played the piano for hours. Time ceased to have meaning.

He was in the middle of a quick piece. The music pounded in his head. His hands traveled up and down the keys. A blur of black and white. His mind was locked into it, unaware of very little else. His heart raced. His ice-cold palms sweated.

"Erik?" she asked.

His head shot up. "Yes, my dear?"

"I want to go outside."

He glanced toward the window. "Is it a bit late?"

"Not past sunset," she replied.

He stood and unlocked the door for her. Christine left. He returned to the piano. By that point, he trusted her enough not to watch her the entire time. He would check on her every five minutes or so.

The door squeaked opened. He glanced up.

"I want to get a jacket," she explained. "I'm going back out. Please leave the door unlocked."

"Of course." He turned back to the piano and played on, his heart racing.

He perhaps would have been aware of the door opening again, aware of her leaving. But he was not alert to those two events _not_ happening. He was not alert to her remaining in the cottage. He was lost in the music and the drug.

At some point, he sensed a presence in the room. His mind could not disconnect from the music.

The presence approached.

The piano played.

 _Pounding, pounding, pounding._

Closer and closer.

Coming up behind him.

He had to stop playing. And address this. _What was happening?_

And, suddenly, he knew.

He knew exactly what was happening. Why else would someone be creeping up behind him?

The music echoed in his head even as his fingers left the keys.

 _An assassin had come to kill him!_

 _He would kill them first!_

He whirled around. And saw only a flash of purple.

He ripped off his mask so that the assassin would see his face, would see the Grim Reaper. _No one would kill Erik! Or harm the Angel! He would tear off the idiot's head!_

He lunged forward.

 _The...Angel?_

A crash.

A scream.


	15. Chapter 15

It's a little busy here with the holidays and work. So sorry for the delay. I hope you enjoy the chapter and I thank you so much for all the insight into these characters. Happy Holidays!

 **Read and Review!**

 _I'm going to die._

That was her only thought as the skeleton face flew toward her. Bony hands reached out. Death personified had come for her.

The vase slipped from her hand and crashed to the floor. She screamed and screamed and screamed. Caught between flight and fight, she stumbled backwards, hands raised.

Her back hit the wall roughly, and the air was knocked out of her. Choked gasps escaped her lips. Colors and light spun together. But she could still see that horrible face, forever imprinted into her mind. Hollow eyes with a speck of yellow. Grey skin intermingled with white and brown. A hole for a nose. Cheek bones that did not seem to have skin. Thin lips that were nearly non-existent.

A snarl. A growl.

She didn't even know if she were still screaming. Christine squeezed her eyes closed and tucked her neck inwards, bracing herself. She expected the bony hands to grab her.

"Where is the assassin?!" a deranged voice screamed at her. "Where did the assassin go?! I will kill him! I will get him and make him pay!"

"Please," she whimpered, holding up her hands. "Please don't. Please."

He grabbed her shoulders. She could feel his frigid fingers through her shirt. She yelped. "You must tell me where the assassin went!"

"Please! Please don't kill me!" she begged, her eyes still closed. His warm breath hit her face.

"Are you on his side, conspiring with the assassin against Erik? Are you?!"

"What? Please, please..."

He shook her back and forth, rattling her teeth in her skull. _"Where is the assassin?! Where is the assassin?!"_ His fingers became ensnared in her hair, and they yanked her tresses as he shook her. _"Where is the fucking assassin?!"_

" _Ow!_ Please…Oh my God! I don't know what you're talking about! Please, please, please!"

Silence. Her shoulders were suddenly released. She fell back against the wall, physically and mentally drained.

She heard a long, mournful moan. Christine opened her eyes.

Erik. It finally clicked.

Erik was the skeleton.

Erik was the one screaming about an assassin.

He was now on his knees and turned away from her, bent over with his face in his hands. His shoulders trembled beneath his black suit jacket. It sounded like he was saying, "Oh, no, no, no. Oh, no, no, no."

Christine raced out of the room and to her bedroom. She slammed the door and locked it. Curling into the fetal position on the bed, all she could do was weep. The pillow case was soon drenched with her tears. _Terror. Horror, horror, horror._

She had plotted for days. Although she had initially wanted to flee without hurting Erik, his threat toward Raoul had made it necessary. Only by incapacitating Erik could she possibly make it to Raoul in time to save him. If she knocked Erik out, if she hit him several times, maybe she would have an hour to find Raoul.

In hindsight, the plan was horribly risky and probably a terrible idea.

In hindsight, she had had very few options.

That evening, Christine had asked Erik to unlock the door and then made an excuse to come back inside. She had gone to the bedroom, said a short prayer, and emerged again. She had grabbed the vase. It was heavy and cold. She had slowly come up behind Erik as he frantically played the piano. Her hand and arm had trembled with the weight of the vase and her fear.

She had hovered there for too long, unable to turn back. Unable to go forward. Afraid of hurting him. Afraid of not hurting him enough.

Christine was entirely out of her element. She was most certainly not an assassin.

Erik had rounded on her and unmasked himself. Then it was all over. He had screamed insanely. He had nearly lost his mind. She was lucky that he hadn't killed her, either on purpose or in a fit of madness.

And his face! Oh, God. His _face._ He looked dead. Like a movie zombie. Except real. That was why he wore a mask. That explained…a lot of things.

Now what? At best, she would never be allowed outside again. At worst, what if Erik killed Raoul in revenge? Her stomach ached with fear. She curled up more tightly. Maybe if she made herself small enough, she would vanish.

She didn't know how long she stayed like that. Hours, probably. Darkness arrived as the sun set, but she didn't turn on a light. Finally, there was a soft knock at the door. Christine pulled the blanket up to her chin.

"Christine?" he softly asked. He didn't sound angry. He sounded very sad. "Christine? Erik is…Did I injure you?"

"No," she murmured.

"Can I see you?" She didn't answer, figuring he could force his way in if he wanted to. He didn't. "Can I see you? I want to make sure you are not hurt."

"Please leave me alone."

"Let me see you," he begged. "I want to see that I did not hurt you."

"I'm not hurt, _okay?_ "

"What-what were you doing?" he shakily continued. "You were going to hit Erik with the vase?" Again, she didn't answer, still terrified of being punished. Almost analytically, he continued, "Darling, that would not have worked. The vase is not heavy enough. To render me unconscious. I have been hit with much heavier. My hideous head is very hard." A pause. "And now you know just how hideous it is, don't you?" He softly moaned. "Erik is so sorry to have shown you that."

She felt a crushing mixture of fear, confusion, sadness, pity, and mind-numbing exhaustion. After a second, Christine got up and opened the door. Erik was on his knees, hands clasped in front of him. The mask was back on. She could never un-see his face, though. "Christine," he whispered.

She quickly spoke, her eyes on the floor. "I…I didn't want to hurt you. I…But…you-you said you were going to hurt Raoul, if I tried to leave. I wanted to stop you from doing that. I thought it'd give me more time." A tear slipped down her cheek. She didn't bother to wipe it away. "But I didn't want to hurt anyone."

"Oh," he murmured. "It is very lovely that you did not want to hurt Erik. Erik deserves to be hurt. For almost injuring his Christine. For showing her his wretched ugliness."

She swallowed. "I-I just want to go home, Erik. That's all."

"And now that you have seen my face, you must desperately wish to escape the monster." His voice grew a little colder with that statement.

"No!" She forced herself to look him in the eye. "I want to leave because I'm being held here against my will. I miss my home. I miss my life." And that was the truth. His face was just another strange piece of this awful puzzle.

"I cannot let you outside now," he said. "Because you have seen me. And you will run. And then you will never come back."

Her shoulders sagged. She was too tired to have that argument for the hundredth time. "Are you going to hurt Raoul?"

"Why does it matter?" he snapped. "No, I am not going waste my time with that idiot." With a sigh, she started to turn around and go back to her room. "I am sorry that I am so ugly," he stated. "I would like not to be for you." He paused. "I was once. But we cannot go there."

"What?"

"Nothing. It does not matter now. Do you need anything? Are you hungry?"

"No." Again, she tried to leave.

"I cannot make myself less ugly," he continued. "But I will make sure that I never harm you. Or reveal my face to you again. You have nothing to fear. I will make sure of that, my Christine. I swear to you."

She didn't know what he meant by that either.

All she knew was that she went to her room and lay down again. She slept a little. At some point, maybe several hours later, Christine heard the door that led to the outside open. Curiosity overcame fear, and she got up and opened the bedroom door. Erik was standing near the exit, a gloved hand on the silver doorknob. He glanced at her. She noticed he was holding a tiny blue bag in his hands, maybe made of velvet.

"What is that?" she asked.

He seemed to try to hide it behind his back. His eyes looked troubled. "A little bag of life and death," he murmured. "Life for Erik. Death for his beloved. So it must go far away. This little bag of joy and misery must go. I will return soon. Sleep, my love."

He quickly disappeared into the nighttime. Or was it early morning by now? After about ten minutes, she tried the front door. She threw herself against it a few times. It was securely locked. Shaking her head, she returned to her room. Miserable, she curled up on the bed and uneasily slept.

It would be a long time before she understood the significance of that night.

* * *

Raoul looked horrified once Nadir explained his suspicions. "You think he was watching her for a long time?"

"I do. I think Erik targeted her. I think when he realized that she was with you, it made things worse. He probably saw you as an extension of the Governor."

"So he decided to ruin my life," Raoul muttered. "And hers."

"But it wasn't only revenge. Erik thinks he's in love with her." Raoul looked ill. Nadir spoke quickly, "I know what you're thinking. And I have never known him to do anything like that. In fact, he helped me put a stop to those types of crimes. Don't fill your head with thoughts of what may or may not be. Let's focus on getting her back. At least we know there's a good chance that she's alive, right?"

Raoul nodded. "What do we do?"

"I believe it's even more imperative to bribe Erik. If he has her, why would he come back? Unless he had something better to come back for?"

"But how are we going to convince my dad?"

"I can think of a few angles to try. If they don't work, maybe we can be secretive about returning Erik to SCI. We'd already started trying to hide him before the Governor intervened. Maybe that plan can be salvaged." He paused. "But I think we're going to need some help."

"What kind of help?"

"I'm going to gather some people together. You'll come, too. I trust you're going to keep your word about not getting me into trouble?"

Raoul rapidly nodded. "If you get her back, I'll give you an award. I'll do anything. I can't sleep. I can't eat. I have to save her. If that means working with bad people, I'll do it."

Nadir snorted. "They're not _bad_ people. The opposite. I'm a lot more badass than they are." Raoul cracked a smile. "If you can work on your father a little more, that would also be great."

"I'll try," said Raoul. "But don't expect too much."

"I won't."

Raoul left Nadir's apartment soon after, looking a little less forlorn than when he had first arrived.

Nadir was also feeling a little more optimistic. He only wished that he'd had this new knowledge long ago. Instead of screaming at Erik for being an addict and a criminal, Nadir might have been more compassionate about the situation. While Nadir had never been married, he'd certainly had experience with romantic love.

But, of course, Erik had probably been too confused by his feelings to say anything. Nadir could only imagine the dark pit of self-loathing and hopelessness that Erik had plunged into, until it had all spiraled out of control and turned into this mess. There was no time to delay.

Nadir phoned Gabby and asked if she would meet with him. She eagerly agreed to it. He met her at a city park that they had sometimes frequented years ago, when they had hovered between the lines of being friends and a little something more. They had visited less often as their careers took off. They both were guilty of being workaholics.

Nadir got there first and took a seat on a wooden park bench, watching some kids play a game of tag on an orange plastic playground. A leafy tree provided shade. He hadn't had any time to enjoy the summer. Gabby arrived soon. She looked tired as she took a seat next to him and set her purse between them. "At least I don't have to meet you in jail," she greeted.

"At least," he agreed. "How have you been?"

"About the same. Getting by. I should avoid the news, but I can't. Half the time, I'm terrified they're going to find him. And kill him. The other half, I hope they do find him. And save that poor girl. What does he want with her?"

"Funny you should ask." Nadir told her more about Raoul's visit. And about his most recent conclusions.

"You really think he's in love with her?" Gabby asked, her eyes widening.

"Yes. But don't sound so damn happy about it. I'm sure the girl is frightened out of her mind. I don't think she knew Erik. Otherwise, she would have filed a restraining order. I think he was watching her. Following her." Nadir shuddered.

"I know," Gabby agreed. "If it's true, though, I feel terrible for them both. What do we do?"

"Do you have any idea where Hope is?"

"No. But everyone at SCI is upset with her. She disappeared and wasn't of any help during the investigation." Gabby shook her head in disgust. "I didn't think she was such a coward."

"Damn. I could use her help right now," said Nadir. He continued, "I was wondering. What was her main motivation for accepting Erik into the program? You obviously thought she would be interested. Why?"

"Hope came to SCI about three or four years ago. She was always interested in unique challenges, mood disorders and psychological illnesses. I told her about Erik. I thought she would be more hesitant, considering how damaged he was. But Hope immediately told me bring him there."

"So she wasn't trying to create a bigger program?"

"I don't think so," Gabby replied. "I think she saw an opportunity with Erik and went for it. Why?"

"I'm trying to figure out the right angle on this. How do we approach the Governor? We'll be destroyed if we say that SCI is making a habit of hooking up criminals into their virtual reality system. So how do we justify putting Erik back in there?"

Gabby's brow furrowed. "I don't know, Nadir. That's a tough one. Maybe…maybe say that Erik is less of a threat locked within SCI than he is out here?"

"I agree. But the Governor would argue that we're rewarding a felon for being especially dangerous. It sets a bad precedent. Why would Governor Chagny allow that?" Gabby stared at him. Nadir answered his own question. "Maybe because there are so few men like Erik, who have his intelligence and prowess, who are that great of a danger? This is a once in a lifetime situation? I don't know."

"I don't either."

"That's another reason I was asking about Hope. What about the original plan? What about moving Erik to a discreet location?"

Gabby shook her head. "Now that Hope is gone, I think it's been scrapped. She was the only high level person who was really involved with Erik. None of the other upper management will touch it."

Nadir rubbed his temples. He envied the carefree children playing in front of him. He felt like he wasn't getting anywhere. "Who else can we include in this conversation? I have Raoul Chagny. He might be our most important advocate when it comes to the Governor. But who else?"

"Daniel," said Gabby. Nadir made a face. "I know he's a pain in the butt. But he's very smart. And he wants Erik back at SCI more than anybody. I think he'd be very willing to help us."

"Fine," said Nadir. He paused. "It'd be nice to have a sort of character witness for Erik."

"Hm?"

"Someone who interacted with the other version of him."

"Oh." Gabby frowned. "Patients."

"I guess."

"That'd be complicated now. SCI wiped their memories of Erik."

Nadir started. "Why?"

"Legally, it seemed like the best option. We've already had patients' relatives threatening to sue us for putting their loved ones in with a dangerous criminal. It was also in the best interest of the patients. Their lives have been traumatizing enough."

"I understand. It isn't fair to the patients. But I don't know what else to do. I don't know what else to offer Erik, so that he releases that poor girl. And everything was going well until Governor Chagny blew it up."

"It was," she agreed. "Everything was going perfectly. Erik was happy. I'd love to have him back there."

They were clearly stuck on the same page. But at least there were now four of them. Soon to be five.

After that meeting, Nadir contacted Raoul. Gabby contacted Daniel.

They arranged for a private room at a local restaurant. Raoul paid for drinks and appetizers, then requested that they not be bothered by the wait staff. A long blue curtain hung over the entrance to their little room. Nadir didn't want them to draw attention to themselves. They weren't technically doing anything illegal, but it was still a risky situation.

Raoul was already there when Nadir arrived. He was poking at a crab cake with a fork. A glass of soda sat in front of him. He looked up and gave Nadir a quick wave.

"Any luck with your father?" Nadir asked, pulling out the chair across from him.

"It was awful," said Raoul. "He went on about his duties to the state. He went on about the Constitution. He told me to grow up. I told him to go to hell."

"That sounds like a fun conversation," Nadir joked. Raoul rolled his eyes. In a gentler tone, Nadir added, "You should eat something. You're looking thin."

Raoul continued to poke at the crab cake. "Maybe I could use a hunger strike against my dad?" He sounded like he was only half-kidding.

Nadir replied, "Let's see if we can come up with a better plan first."

Gabby came next, wearing a cream-colored pantsuit. She cast a slightly nervous glance toward Raoul, who was probably a celebrity to her. Nadir introduced them, and that went well enough.

Then Daniel arrived. Another younger man followed closely behind him. Nadir had seen him once before at SCI but didn't remember his name.

Daniel didn't disappoint. He took one look at Raoul and declared, "Your father is an asshole."

Raoul sarcastically replied, "Welcome to the club."

That response took Daniel off guard, and Nadir quickly stepped in. "All right. We're all here for the same reason. I'm sure you two will come to a quick understanding." Nadir glared directly at Daniel.

Daniel shrugged. "I'm Daniel. Nice to meet you, Mr. Chagny."

"Likewise. Call me Raoul."

"And who's this again?" Nadir asked, shaking hands with the other guy.

"This is Corey," said Daniel. "I think he'll be useful."

"Gee, thanks," Corey replied. He didn't look extremely happy to be there, but he was polite. "Nice to meet you all."

"What do you do for SCI?" Nadir asked.

"I am a Systems Interaction Engineer." Corey probably noticed Nadir's and Raoul's blank expressions. "I interact directly with the System and the patients. I can tell if things are off. For example, if the sunlight doesn't look realistic. If there are glitches, objects disappearing or blurring. I look for errors."

"Ah," said Nadir. "That must be interesting work."

"It is," said Corey. "For the most part, I love my job."

Daniel said, "I brought him because he directly interacted with Erik. My Erik."

"To some degree," stressed Corey. "I knew him a little bit."

"I'm glad you came," said Nadir, studying him. "I imagine that the Erik you knew, and the Erik I know, are two very different people."

"Oh, yes," Daniel agreed before Corey could reply. "My Erik wasn't a triple-homicide, girl-kidnapping freak of nature."

Raoul stared between Daniel and Corey. "What was he then? I don't get it."

Gabby appeared a little upset. She said, "He retained aspects of himself. We didn't change everything."

"We changed a lot," Daniel argued.

"I was wondering about some of that," Corey replied.

"Okay, can we start from the beginning?" asked Raoul.

And, with that, they were off. Four men and one woman. Gathered around a table. Trying to accomplish the impossible. Up against the Governor. Up against a mentally unstable, lovesick criminal mastermind.

If Erik could have seen them, he probably would have laughed.

* * *

Erik returned an hour later, but he didn't say anything to her. The front door opened and closed. Another door opened and closed. Probably the one to the other room in the cottage. His bedroom, she could only guess. It was weird to think about him doing normal things like going to bed. She had never even seen Erik eat. That was probably because he didn't want to show her his face…

The cottage was silent.

Hours ticked by. The sun rose, and a few streaks of light streamed through the window. After what had occurred the previous night, she almost never wanted to leave the room again. But then she would be back at square one, hiding in there while he left food at her door. Her only chance at escape would come from gaining his trust again. Somehow.

She finally came out, but Erik was still in his room. Hungry, she opened the refrigerator. There were enough leftovers to last for at least a week. Christine pulled out a large glass bowl of chicken and celery soup. She warmed it in the microwave for breakfast and ate in the silence. Her father used to tease her about eating random things for breakfast. Pizza. Tuna sandwiches. Canned ravioli. She missed her dad more than ever.

She was glad, though, that her father wasn't out there looking for her - that he didn't have to live through his daughter being kidnapped. That would have killed him. Instead, he was watching over her from above. She took comfort from that thought.

After breakfast, Christine read a mystery novel in her bedroom. _The Case of the Missing Panda._ It was kind of corny but entertaining enough to distract her. Erik had given her a portable music player, and she listened to a few songs on it. She fed herself lunch and dinner. She watched a romantic comedy on the television in the living room. The T.V. didn't seem to have cable, so she could never find any news about her kidnapping. She was cut off from the rest of the world.

Without ever seeing Erik, she went to bed that night. In the morning, she lay under the covers, waiting for him to tell her about breakfast. He didn't. She finally came out of her room. She didn't see any signs that he had emerged last night. She had a more traditional breakfast of sweet cereal and milk.

By that point, she was nervous. What if he were dead? What if she were forever trapped in that house with his corpse? The day passed the same as the previous one - her alone in that house, trying to distract herself, on the edge of going crazy in the silence. She pulled at the front door a couple of times, but it wouldn't budge.

The following morning, she couldn't take it anymore. She knocked softly at the door of the other bedroom. "Erik?" She knocked harder. "Erik!" She slammed the bottom of her fist against his door. "Erik!" If he were dead, she had to break in and find the key. "Erik!"

"Christine?" he asked from the other side, his voice hoarse and confused. He didn't open the door. "You are here? Yes. Christine? What is wrong?"

"You've been in there for two days!" she cried, incredulously.

"No. I could not have…It has only been hours."

"It's been two days!"

"Oh, no." Erik opened the door. She took two large steps backward, eyes widening. He was wearing his mask, but he looked disheveled. His sparse dark hair was a mess, and his white shirt was wrinkled. "I must feed you," he mumbled, staggering toward the kitchen. "I must feed you now."

"No. I can eat leftovers. It's fine. I just-"

"No. No, it is not. I must feed you." He opened cupboards and the refrigerator.

"What's wrong with you?" she asked, crossing her arms.

"Nothing. I am simply…Nothing. I am fine. It is sweet of you to inquire into Erik's well-being."

She stared as his hands fumbled over metallic pots and pans. "I'll just have cereal. That's all I want. I can get it."

"No. No. I will get that for you."

He was insistent, so she allowed him to pour her cereal. He added a bowl of strawberries and a glass of orange juice. Erik obviously took that 'balanced breakfast' thing very seriously. He sat at the table and watched her eat. Wasn't he hungry or thirsty after spending two days in that room? She shifted under his gaze, wondering if her earlier solitude had been such a bad thing. There apparently wasn't a happy medium.

When she was finished eating, she went to the couch to read. Erik followed her to the living room. He stood over her, watching her. After five minutes, she stood up, book in hand, ready to go to the bedroom and escape the weirdness.

"Stay out here." Erik knelt at the foot of the couch, like a dog at her feet. "I want to be near you. Just a little while longer. Stay?"

She sat back down but could barely concentrate on the words. "Maybe you could play the piano," she uncomfortably suggested.

"Will you sing?" he asked with pleading eyes.

"I don't feel like it."

"I will accompany you."

She sighed and put the book down. "Fine. One song. Okay?"

Erik's eyes lit up like Christmas lights. He moved toward the piano, his steps still more sluggish than usual. Despite whatever was wrong with him, he still played beautifully.

She didn't sing to please him. She did it because her voice gave Erik something to concentrate on. And stopped him from desperately staring at her.

And she sang because it gave her something to concentrate on. Besides how doomed she felt.


	16. Chapter 16

Happy New Year! I hope everyone is continuing to enjoy the story. This is a slower part, although it will pick up here and there. Given that there was no Angel of Music interaction between E/C, I am taking my time with their relationship, which will continue to be a rollercoaster of softness and angst. We've still got a ways to go, so I hope to keep entertaining you well into 2017.

 **Read and Review!**

Daniel, Corey, and Gabby gave Raoul some background concerning SCI's work with Erik. Even they didn't know everything, though. Corey asked Daniel, "Did you make him awesome at the piano?"

"No," Nadir stepped in before Daniel could wrongly take credit for it. "That was all Erik. He is a brilliant musician. That's probably an understatement."

"Oh." Corey looked a little relieved. "Anyway, he was a quiet and talented kid."

"He wasn't dangerous at all," said Daniel.

"No," Corey agreed. "At least I never saw anything to indicate that."

"But why?" asked Raoul. "I mean, I get that you made him saner and non-violent. But how?"

Daniel replied, "We wiped negative memories. Which was pretty much all of his memories. Heh. Anti-anxiety medications. Antidepressants. Lowered testosterone. Some adjustments to fear response. We played with a lot of things. Psychopathy is highly complex."

"It was a slow process," said Gabby, looking at the table with sadness in her eyes. "But, over time, he was happier in there. I could tell."

"I don't care if he was happy," said Raoul, glancing at her. "I care that he wasn't a threat."

"He wasn't a threat," stated Daniel, glaring slightly at Raoul. "Until your daddy pulled him out of there."

"Okay," said Nadir. "I think we all agree, no matter our motives, that Erik was better off within SCI."

Before he could continue, Corey spoke, "I don't necessarily agree with that." Everyone turned to stare at him. Corey sat a little lower in the chair but continued, "You're putting a psychopathic individual in there with the other patients. Doesn't anyone see anything wrong with that?"

There was a moment of awkward silence until Raoul said, "I thought we agreed that he's not a danger to anyone in there?"

"He's not!" Daniel exclaimed, pounding a fist on the table.

"Maybe not," said Corey. "But it still sets a dangerous precedent. Are we letting criminals into SCI now?"

"That's a good point," said Nadir, feeling a little bad for Corey. It was four against one. "It's the same reason the Governor is fighting us. The answer is – no. This is a onetime situation with a very unique individual."

"I know people in there," Corey continued. "Hell, one girl was a friend of Erik's. She spent time alone with him, got to know him. And I'm not supposed to feel weird about that, knowing who he is?"

"But he's not the same person!" Daniel insisted. "You're thinking about this in the wrong way!"

"There are still ethical implications," said Corey.

Raoul's eyes narrowed. "What about the ethical implications of the fact that my girlfriend, Christine, is somewhere out there with this guy? The very dangerous version of him. I don't even want to think about what's happening to her. What about the ethical implications of that?"

Corey glanced at him. "I get it. I'm really sorry. But why don't we put him in jail where he can't hurt anyone?!"

"Go ahead," said Nadir, leaning back and crossing his arms. "Find him. Go right ahead and find him. Put him in jail. Save us this trouble." Corey looked down. "That's the issue. We have no idea where he is. I think the only way to convince Erik to come back, to rescue Christine, is to allow Erik to return to the System. It represents happiness for him. Forget whether Erik deserves it. It's the only way he's coming back."

"Agreed," said Daniel. A minute ago, he had pulled out a laptop and started typing at it. He whispered something to Corey. With an annoyed glance, Corey answered back. Daniel said something else. Corey replied. Nadir couldn't hear the conversation.

Raoul shrugged and said, "Whatever gets her back."

Corey shook his head. "Even if I agreed to all this, what's the plan exactly?"

"That's what we're here to discuss," said Nadir. "I think that you and Daniel are valuable witnesses as to what SCI can accomplish. Maybe we just need to lay it all out for the Governor. And then Raoul can continue to make the case that an innocent woman, whom he loves, is suffering for no good reason."

"I still doubt it's going to work," Raoul replied.

"We do need a backup plan." Nadir looked at Daniel. "Gabby and I were wondering about the original idea to hide Erik. I know that's difficult without Hope's help. Is it possible?"

Daniel looked up from his computer. "Only if we have a lot of money to bribe a lot of people."

Raoul sharply glanced at him. "Tell me the people." He was dead serious.

Daniel laughed. "I like your candor. But let's try another way first. One where there's less of a chance we'd all be arrested."

"I still don't like this," said Corey. "What do you want from me?"

"You're the only here who had direct interaction with the other version of Erik," Nadir explained.

"I didn't have that much interaction with him," Corey replied.

"It's better than nothing," said Nadir. "You could at least say that you never once observed Erik act violently or out of control. Right?"

"I guess," Corey muttered.

Nadir didn't have a good feeling about Corey. The last thing they needed was a lackluster witness to testify in front of Governor Chagny. Daniel would be of some help, but that didn't seem good enough. Maybe they would wind up depending on Daniel's connections and Raoul's fortune.

Corey was quiet for the rest of the meeting. The rest of them discussed how they should present their case, what points to stress. When they left the restaurant, agreeing to meet again in a week, Nadir followed Daniel to his car. It was dark out, but they were beneath a streetlight. The others were already in their vehicles. Nadir asked, "Corey's not going to tell anyone about this conversation, is he?"

"No," said Daniel, glancing up. "I'm very disappointed in him right now, but I don't think he'll be a problem."

"Even if he's not, I don't want him speaking to the Governor. I think he'll do more harm than good."

"Agreed," Daniel replied. He kept walking, seeming uninterested in what Nadir had to say.

Frustrated, Nadir grabbed his shoulder. Daniel stopped and turned. Nadir whispered, "I don't think that you're enough, as far as witnesses ago. You can testify as to what you did to Erik, to fix him. But we need-"

"We need someone who actually knew the other Erik," Daniel interrupted.

"Yes."

"I've got you covered. Leave this to me. I'll make sure Corey keeps his mouth closed, and I'll get a decent witness or two. We'll even play the sympathy card. Maybe twice, if we have to."

"What exactly are you talking about?" asked Nadir, getting a funny feeling.

Daniel opened the door to his blue sports car. "I'll give you a call soon." He climbed in and shut the door. The engine started.

Nadir sighed, aware that he had lost some control over the situation. Daniel's ethics were questionable. Everything about this was questionable.

 _Damn it, Erik. Why must you make everything so complicated?_

* * *

She hadn't heard herself sing in months. Even in private, Christine hadn't felt like singing since her mother died. She had forgotten how good it felt. Singing had been her art and passion, her reason for getting up each morning, especially after her father's death.

During those few moments, she only thought of music. She forgot her kidnapper and captivity. She forgot the deaths of her parents, the poverty and the loneliness. Christine closed her eyes as her own voice rang in her ears. When the last word left her lips, she didn't want to open them. She reluctantly did so. Of course, he was watching her from the piano bench, his hands clasped together.

"Oh, Christine," he whispered. "That was so very lovely. Your voice has suffered from disuse, but it is still divine. Will you sing another?"

"Fine," she murmured. This was the least awful that she had felt since Erik had kidnapped her. Focusing on music was better than obsessing over her situation. She mostly knew oldies, ballads, and songs from musicals. She loved all of them. She probably could have gone on forever, singing one after another.

After the second song was over, Erik asked, "Christine, may I make corrections?"

"What?"

"Would you be angry with Erik if he made corrections to your voice?"

She didn't even know what to say to that. She was furious with him for a million other (much more important) reasons. And he was worried about that? "What are your corrections?" she tiredly asked.

Without touching her, Erik told her how to stand and how to breathe, how to open her mouth. She had heard some of the tips before from vocal instructors and had simply forgotten. Some pieces of advice were new. His instructions did make her better. Again, she felt resentful, forced to feel gratitude toward someone she wanted to hate. And Erik seemed so happy throughout the whole thing. After the fourth song, Christine said she was tired. Turning her back toward him without a word, she went to bed.

Curled up beneath the covers, her thoughts traveled back to escape. She knew she couldn't rush it. Even if it took a year to get away from Erik, she needed to be patient. Or else she would wind up in a disaster, like with the vase.

She tried to be patient while still making progress. He wanted her to the sing the following afternoon. She did so, following his advice so that her voice would improve. Erik was very pleased.

After warm-ups and three songs, she dared to ask if they could go outside. "I really need fresh air. It's making me feel sick to be cooped up in here all the time. If you're worried that I'll run, then come with me."

He stared down at the piano keys, obviously in thought. "I suppose we could take a walk at night," he replied. "You will not run? Or try to hit Erik in the back of the head with a tree branch?"

She managed a close-lipped smile. "I'm not going to run away, through the forest, at night. I might get eaten."

"Being with Erik is better than being eaten?"

"I think so," she replied.

They went out after sunset, farther away from the cottage than she had ever been. There was a half-moon and stars in the sky. A cool wind. Crickets chirped, and the leaves rustled. Christine listened for sounds of civilization, cars on a highway or a train whistle. She didn't hear anything like that. How far away from other people were they? She didn't dare ask.

They walked quietly, a couple feet away from each other. Erik's steps were still slow, and he seemed lethargic. His erratic behavior, near hyperactiveness, had faded over the last several days, and that made him a little less terrifying. There was still an edge to him that told her to be careful. And he seemed clingier, which was awkward. If she came out of her room, he always had to be sitting or kneeling near her, watching her.

"Is this to your liking?" he asked.

"Yes. This feels wonderful." The fresh air brought clarity to her thoughts.

An owl hooted somewhere. Then it would squawk. _Hoot, hoot, hoot. Squawk, squawk. Hoot, hoot, hoot. Squawk, squawk._ She laughed at this. Come to think of it, it had been a long time since she had been out of the city. Camping with her father had always been fun. Or trips to the countryside to visit elderly relatives. The air smelled fresh and green. She sat on a fallen tree trunk. Erik stood beside her, forever vigilant. For a while, they stayed like that. And she wished…

She wished this strange and peaceful setting weren't tainted by awfulness. Sometimes she still wondered how she had wound up in this situation.

"So you started watching me a little over two years ago, at the theater?" she softly asked.

"Yes."

"Then you went on your vacation?"

"Yes."

"And you decided to take me away because you came back and saw that…that I had a boyfriend?" She braced herself for anger at any mention of Raoul.

A little more coldly, he replied, "Yes."

She felt like she was missing a lot of pieces to this puzzle. "Where did you go on vacation? The beach? Europe?"

"I went to a very pleasant place. Too delightful to be real. It was very green. And there were mountains."

"So Colorado?" she joked.

Erik shifted. "It does not matter now. I cannot go back."

"Why? Couldn't you just, I don't know, hop onto a plane and go to Colorado?"

"I could not get past airport security in my mask."

"Drive to Colorado then?"

" _We_ could do that. I will take you anywhere. Except to the place I went. That is not a place for you."

"Why?" She was missing something very important. Why wouldn't he simply explain?

"Because only the broken go there. You are not broken, my dear."

"I don't understand."

"It does not matter." He stepped toward her. "We should go home now."

"All right. Fine." She stood and dusted off the back of her jeans. "We'll do this again?"

"Yes," said Erik. "I can take you out in the darkness."

"There's no one out here. Why can't we go out in the daytime?"

"I dislike bright sunlight."

She didn't ask why.

* * *

In retrospect, Alice didn't remember if she sensed that something was off, that some piece of her mind had been taken from her. She remembered going through those several months as normal, working and seeing her three friends. She remembered feeling a little off but attributed it to not getting enough sleep.

She heard from other patients that SCI had faced some legal troubles. Something about a patient with a criminal history? Alice didn't know the details, only that SCI's lawyers had managed to fix the situation. During her wake up, Alice recalled seeing her mother reading a magazine. On the front cover, in the lower right corner, was a picture of a blonde girl. The photo was captioned with: _The Strange Disappearance of Christine- What We Know So Far._ A recent kidnapping, apparently.

At the time, Alice didn't make any connections. It was just a reminder that the 'real world' could be a messed up place.

Her wake up had gone well enough. SCI had given her enough pain medication to get through a couple of days with her parents, brother, and two friends. She hated to see how sad her father looked. And he would keep saying awkward things like, "At least you're not dead." He was someone who didn't deal with weakness and vulnerability well, a district attorney and a former football coach. Everyone else seemed happy for her, and they managed to get through the visit without too many tears.

Alice was grateful to return to the System. It wasn't just the lack of pain. The System was her home now and where she felt comfortable, where she belonged. She immersed herself in work and then went on a hike into the mountains with Ken. They had invited Corey, but he was busy. He had been acting kind of weird lately…

Alice also planned a movie night with Leigh, Veronica, and a couple of other girls. She had wine and soda and movies. Now all she needed were more snacks.

Alice headed out to buy them, enjoying the bright sunny day. She went to a candy store first, one with clear plastic bins filled with colorful treats, everything from gummies to chocolates to licorice. They had caramel apples and fudge behind the counters. The artificial intelligence was a young man in a dark blue shirt tucked into khaki pants. He smiled at her. She nodded back. She ripped off a plastic bag and started to fill it with caramel coated chocolates.

"Always a good choice," he said.

"Yep. If you eat them with popcorn, it's like caramel corn." She finished and tied up the bag. Didn't Leigh like red licorice? Alice decided to grab a couple of those, too.

"Why not just buy the caramel corn?" he asked.

Alice looked up with a frown. A.I. wasn't usually that nosy. "Uh. I don't know. It's not as fun, I guess."

"Fair enough."

She started to grab another bag, suddenly a little uncomfortable. Maybe the chocolates were enough. She took them to the counter and pulled out her billfold.

"It's funny," he continued as she took out a twenty. "Even having money here, isn't it? You should just be able to snap your fingers and have candy appear in your living room."

 _What the heck?_ "I guess it's supposed to feel more realistic," she replied, studying him.

"Realism is a little overrated. This is virtual reality. We should have pet unicorns and talking dogs and – I don't know. Dinosaurs to ride around."

Alice felt her heart beat a little faster. "Are you malfunctioning? Should I call someone?"

He laughed. "I'm not malfunctioning. I'm a real person, and I've hijacked this A.I. I'm just having some fun with you." Alice gaped. "I needed to talk to you. Figured this would be better than through a screen. I have something important to tell you, something you'll find a little disturbing."

"What?" She leaned forward, too curious to run away.

He leaned toward her and whispered. "Your memory was wiped."

Alice flinched. "What do you mean my memory was wiped?"

"You had a friend that you've forgotten. Because SCI is overcautious. No one has any sense of adventure."

"I don't understand." She forgot all about the candy and the movie night.

Still in a whisper, he continued, "Do you want your memory back, Alice? I can download everything they erased. Or would you prefer not to know?" Her mouth hung open. "Well? Is ignorance bliss?"

"I want it back," she finally replied.

He grinned. "Yay. I thought you'd say that. Give me thirty minutes to an hour. Make sure you're sitting down. I'll contact you again after the download's complete."

"You'll contact me about what?"

"You wouldn't understand if I tried to explain. Be patient. And don't tell anyone about this conversation."

She shook her head, feeling disoriented. "Who are you?"

The man blinked. His smug smile was replaced by a friendlier one. "I am a cashier at the Yum Yum Candy Store. How may I help you today?"

"But my memory. You just said..."

"Would you like to try our new chocolate mint truffles?" The A.I. was back. The hijacker was gone. "They're only $1.99 for a package. Each package contains nine candies."

"No. Never mind. I don't want anything." She left the bag of chocolate there. She grabbed her billfold and purse and left the store. The sunlight was bright, and she felt disoriented. For a second, she considered trying to find Corey.

But was he part of a lie, too? Whom could she trust?

After standing frozen on an artificial sidewalk, under an artificial sun, she ran home.

The man had said she should sit down.

So Alice sat on her couch and waited. For over an hour. Sitting up straight with her hands folded tightly in her lap.

She started to stand up with a sigh, wondering if the entire incident was some SCI glitch. It had definitely been one of the creepier errors. Just as she took a first step, she felt dizzy, as though there were a rush of blood to her head. She sat back down, a hand on her forehead. The fogginess cleared, and she could see clearly.

At first, it didn't seem like anything had changed.

And then –

* * *

"Erik?"

"Yes, darling?"

Christine had waited until after a voice lesson to ask, when he would be in the best of moods. Just as when she had asked to go outside. "Could I see the news? I feel so isolated from the rest of the world."

"Why would you want to see any of that?" he asked, glancing at her. "Everything is so much happier right here. What? You want to see which country has bombed the other? How many people have been shot in the city this week?"

"I just want to see what's happening."

"If you want movies or television shows, I will get you that. Name them."

She wrung her hands together. "Are they still looking for me?"

Erik chuckled. "Of course, my dear. They are desperately searching for you, and they will continue to do so for some time. Once they get too close, if they do, we will leave. Together. I can show you things that no one else can." He turned to the piano. "Let's continue with your lesson."

"Can I at least see that Raoul is alive?" His shoulders tensed. "Please. You've claimed that he is. But I haven't seen evidence."

"What does it matter?" Erik snapped. "What does it matter if he is alive?"

Christine could have answered that she deeply cared about Raoul, but that would have angered Erik. And maybe there was another reason. Christine almost didn't want to admit it to herself. If Raoul were okay, if he were alive and well, she would feel less guilty about agreeing to this musical arrangement…to the walks outside…to being civil toward Erik.

And if Erik had killed Raoul – then what? Would she finally fall to the floor, lie on her back, and scream until she either died or was released? She hadn't tried that yet, surrendering to complete madness.

Tiredly, she begged, "Please let me see that he's okay. It'll make me feel better. I'll never ask again. Please."

" _Fine_. I will show you a recent video of him tomorrow. That is all I will do." Erik's tone offered no room for argument.

"Thank you."

He kept his word. The following evening, as she sat at the kitchen table after dinner, he placed a laptop in front of her. He brought up a frozen picture of Raoul. She cringed. Raoul's arm was in a sling, and his face was bruised. But he was alive and conscious. Erik pushed play. Raoul spoke into a microphone at what looked like a press conference. The clip was from about a week ago.

"I want to reiterate that there is a reward for anyone who offers information leading to Christine. There's also an anonymous hotline if you're worried about being identified. I don't have the number right now, but it's on the website. You can also submit information through an online form. The address to that site is - " Erik had muted that part. Through lipreading, Christine was pretty sure that her name was part of the website address.

Someone asked Raoul, "Have you received any tips?"

"The police are constantly receiving tips," said Raoul. He managed to keep his voice strong even though his eyes were distressed. "Without getting into details, though, we haven't received any information that's been...all that helpful."

"Do you think she's alive?" someone else asked.

Raoul hesitated then said, "We do think that. I do."

"Why?"

"I'm not getting into that while the investigation is still underway."

Christine wondered what Raoul meant by that. Did he know something? Before she could watch any more, Erik took the laptop away. "There," he said. "Now you are satisfied?" She nodded.

Her heart hurt as she folded her arms on the tabletop. She had thought that seeing Raoul alive would make her feel better. Christine finally asked, "Isn't there a way to let him know I'm okay?"

Erik put his hands up by his head. He looked as though he were going to cover his ears but stopped short of doing so. His hands dropped. "I don't want to hear about that twit again! Do you understand? What is so damned wonderful about him? Oh, don't tell me. I already know. He is handsome. So very handsome. Wasn't he the city's Bachelor of the Year? And wealthy. So very wealthy. The latter I can compete with. The former…Oh, he will always win there. Unless I transplant his face onto mine?" Erik laughed, and she shivered. "Not entirely a fantasy in this day and age. But I don't think it would look quite right, do you?"

"It's not that," she insisted, hating his ranting. "Raoul was good to me. Especially after my mom died. Without him, I might have ended up on the streets. He helped me get an apartment. He-"

"And he did all that for you and expected nothing back? I highly doubt that."

Her face grew warm. "It wasn't like that! He was a kind person. Not everyone is selfish." _Like you._

"Everyone wants something, my dear." He cleared his throat. "And what I want, right now, is to hear your lovely voice and forget all this nonsense. Shall we have your lesson soon?"

"I don't feel like singing."

She left the table and went to her room. Of course, doing that never accomplished anything. He would just leave food at her door. Besides, Erik had done what she'd wanted. He had shown her Raoul. Somehow, it had devolved into an argument, and she didn't even remember why.

She eventually came out to read and have dinner. She still insisted that she didn't want to sing. Erik hovered nearby, pacing and pretending to keep busy, just so that he could be near her.

"You are right," he finally murmured, standing in front of her with his head down, like a child ready to be punished. She looked up from her book, confused. "I left you. I left you to the streets. It is Erik's fault that the boy found you during your tragedy. I abandoned you, all to indulge in a ridiculous fantasy. Erik is sorry that he left you."

"That's…not really the point I was trying to make." Having her stalker show up in the middle of all that would have made things worse. "It wasn't your job to be there."

"But it most certainly was," he replied. "I failed you." A pause. "How did she die?"

"Um. An overdose. She was…depressed."

Erik twitched. It was subtle, as though he hadn't wanted to show any outward reaction. A silence passed. "Mothers can be wretched creatures," he finally said.

"Is yours alive?"

"I don't know, and I don't care. I have not seen her for many, many years."

"And your dad?"

"I have no idea whom he is. But being somewhat familiar with my mother's choices in male companions, I assume that my biological father is either dead or incarcerated. I raised myself."

"That…sucks." He chuckled at her response. She offered a gentler one. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be! It was an adventure. By ten, I was gainfully employed. By fourteen, I had a full bank account. I was much more productive than other children, lying uselessly on their sofas watching television. Playing video games where they _pretend_ to shoot people. I was not useless."

"I guess that's one way to look at it..." When he didn't say anything else, she asked, "What exactly were you doing, when you were employed?" He didn't answer, and the silence was uncomfortable. She turned back to her book.

"Christine?" She looked up. "May I sing for you tonight?"

"Okay." With slight humor, she asked, "Are you good?"

"I will let you be the judge of that."


	17. Chapter 17

**Hi all. I wanted to get this chapter out earlier, but the stomach flu ruined that. So thank you for your patience. And thank you as always for your feedback. I love your insights into these characters.**

 **Read and Review!**

"Christine?"

She could barely process him talking to her.

"Christine? You are crying? Why? Tell Erik why you are sad. Do you hate his voice that much? Christine? I will never sing again. If it makes you cry. Christine?"

She put a hand over her mouth, unable to respond as he continued to panic.

"Christine? You must stop crying. Why do you hate my voice?"

How could he ask that? Didn't he know what he sounded like? She was too stunned to even feel resentful. Christine could only protectively wrap her arms around herself. The tears finally stopped flowing. She stared forward, not wanting to look at him.

Erik stood over her. "Christine? Is my voice so terrible?"

"You can't really believe that," she said, softly. "You have the most beautiful voice I've ever heard."

Erik almost seemed to swoon. She leaned back, wary of him. "I am so happy you liked it!"

"Anyone would like it, Erik. With a voice like that, you could be famous."

"No. Not with this abomination." He gestured toward his face. "Well, perhaps on the television freak shows. But that does not matter. Only you will ever hear it." He paused. "But why did you weep, if you liked it?"

She didn't have a clear answer. His voice made her heart hurt, and she felt drained and confused and overly emotional. Christine shrugged.

"You are the one who should be famous," he said. "On stage."

"I'm not good enough."

"But you will be."

She asked, "How am I ever going to be on stage if you keep me here forever?"

Erik shook his head. "Not forever. Of course not. Only until you…" He swallowed. "Are happy here. And then we can go other places. Perhaps not this city. But other places throughout the world where you could sing for large audiences. This city is vile anyhow. And they have closed your beloved theater. Our theater, I suppose."

"They did," she agreed, looking to the side. "I tried so hard to save it. I handed out flyers when it was freezing. I thought of another place they could put the parking garage. The abandoned stadium. But that didn't work either. I guess it doesn't matter now."

"The stadi - Oh, where Vaughan threw his little temper tantrum?"

She winced. "That's a little understated." It had been a stain on her childhood, on the childhoods of all the kids in her district. Everyone either knew a victim or knew someone who did. Her dad's coworker's nephew had been shot in the leg.

"So much planning. And what did he get out of it? It was a tantrum."

Her eyes narrowed. "What do you mean, what did he get out of it? Thirty-six people died." Twenty-nine students. Six teachers. One counselor.

"Mankind has been killing each other since the dawn of civilization and long before. Usually it is over resources - wealth or land. Or women. Something or someone of value. To take the time to build explosive devices and purchase assault rifles on the black market, to put that all together, all to wind up in a maximum security prison? It was not even an elaborate suicide. That is a special sort of insanity. Not unheard of, of course. But rather pointless."

Christine's head tilted to the side. "Well, why do you think he did it?" she asked with a quiver in her voice, too far in to go back.

"Why are you asking me?" Erik snapped with a defensiveness that she wasn't expecting. Christine drew back. He sighed and answered, "As banal as it sounds, likely for attention. No one ever would have noticed Vaughan. He was a nobody. He wished to be a somebody. He wished to force people to notice him. And to exact revenge on them for not noticing him before that day."

She thought about it for a moment. "Yes. That's probably right."

"I only ever wanted you to notice me," Erik murmured. "No one else."

There was a note of desperation in the statement, but she was used to hearing it. So it didn't alarm her as much as it should have, given the context.

All she knew was that Erik was a puzzle.

She had now heard his voice, his music, his talent. His face was…bad, but this was the twenty-first century. She couldn't understand how he had been denied all friendship, along with admiration for his musical genius, all because of his disfigurement. Some people could be jerks, of course. Some people were cruel. But not everyone, not most people. Christine was sure that she would have been kind to Erik if he had not introduced himself in such a horrendous way. She certainly would have appreciated his music.

How could anyone not appreciate it?

A suspicion was creeping upon her - that there was much, much more to his life. There was more to his past - that would cause other people to reject him.

Or did he reject other people?

Or both?

Erik treated her as well as a kidnapping victim could be treated. She was well-fed, warm, and comfortable. He rarely even said mean things to her. But maybe…maybe he didn't treat everyone else this way.

His singing voice echoed in her head, sending goose bumps up and down her arms. She trembled.

Cognitive dissonance. Her Psychology 101 vocabulary sheet suddenly gave her a term for all this. It was maddening. All the feelings and the thoughts and the questions.

She was going to have an anxiety attack unless – "Erik, could you please sing one more song? Something…something calming?"

He laughed. His eyes lit up. "You like Erik's voice? No, do not be sorry. I am so happy you enjoy it. If you only like one thing about me, that is enough. Oh, that is definitely enough. Yes, my love. I will sing for you!"

* * *

Corey had been in a terrible mood since the meeting. He expected a phone call soon and wasn't sure what he would say. If he agreed to all this, he would be endorsing Erik's return to the System. If he refused, he would be leaving Christine to a horrible fate.

While in the real world, he tried to get some exercise, jogging and lifting weights to clear his head. It worked until he turned on the television and saw the news. Yvonne told him that he looked stressed.

"Just work," Corey replied.

"If you hate it, you should find a new job," she stated. "I got sick of that tax firm. Now I own an online store that makes shoes for dogs."

If only it were that simple. Corey still loved his work. It was unique and wonderful, something few people could say about their jobs. But it had also taken a darker turn on him.

To his surprise, he wasn't contacted by Nadir or Daniel over the next several days. Corey returned to the System and completed his inspections, focusing on a new mountain range that had been added, along with a department store. The variety of clothing was terrible, so he made a note of that. Maybe SCI should hire a professional fashion designer. He went to the bar that evening and looked forward to seeing his friends. Ken and Leigh were sitting in the usual spot.

Alice wasn't there.

"Where is she?" Corey asked, suddenly having a funny feeling in the pit of his stomach.

"I don't know," said Ken with a shrug.

"We were supposed to have a girls' night," said Leigh, frowning. "She called and canceled. Said something personal came up. She wouldn't say what."

After sitting with them for ten minutes and downing a beer, Corey excused himself. He knew where he was going, unable to get rid of the nagging sensation that something was not right. As the sun set, he jogged to Alice's apartment beneath the streetlights, past identical brick apartments and lawns.

He reached her door. No lights were on inside. Corey knocked three times. No answer. "Alice!" he called. He knocked again. She obviously wasn't home.

Corey backed up from Alice's door, wondering what to do next. He wasn't scheduled to leave the System for another three hours and was supposed to complete a nighttime inspection. After thinking it over, he pulled out his cell and made a call to the other side. "Hey. This is Corey."

His female contact, Heather, replied, "Hey. Is anything wrong?"

"I don't know yet. Could you tell me if an Alice Hastings is inside the System right now? She's a patient."

"Sure. Give me a second." There was a pause and some typing. "Huh."

"What?" Corey sharply asked.

"She is out of the System, but I don't see a scheduled wake up. Maybe there was an issue. I don't see any notes."

"Shit," Corey muttered. "Look. I need to get out early tonight. It's kind of an emergency."

"Okay. I can have you out in twenty minutes."

"Fine. Thanks."

Corey hung up and then called a supervisor. There was no answer, so Corey left a message. "I'm leaving a little early tonight. I'll be back tomorrow night on schedule. Didn't see any immediate issues. Call me if you need to."

Corey wanted to kick himself. At the meeting, Daniel had quietly asked for the names of the people who had interacted with Erik. "Just to do some research," Daniel had slyly explained. "I want to study Erik's movement patterns within the System."

Corey had told Daniel the truth. He had given Daniel Alice's full name. And Ken's name.

Why the hell had he done that?

Because Corey had really thought that Daniel was only doing some research. Not that Daniel would do something insane.

Corey raced back to his apartment. Once home, he slipped off his sandals and lay down in the bed, waiting to leave. Corey closed his eyes and pushed his shoulders back, trying to relax. He soon felt the familiar tingles of disconnection running up and down his skin. It felt a little like awakening from a deep sleep, the real world returning as the System faded into a well-remembered dream. The tingling faded, and he sensed bright light. The helmet was removed, as were the wires attached to his skin. Corey opened his eyes. Heather stood over him, her long brunette braid brushing against his cheek as she helped to disentangle his body from the hardware. "Hey. You look tense."

"I'm fine." Corey pulled off the rest of the wires, feeling disoriented. It took several seconds for his vision to focus. He usually gave himself longer to recover. "Could you find my clothes?" He forced himself out of the chair, his legs unsteady.

"Yeah, sure. You're in a hurry. Everything okay?"

"Fine." He muttered a 'thank you' as she handed him his t-shirt and jeans. He generally wore a pair of boxers while hooked up. Modesty was somewhat discarded in this job, although Heather still stepped out of the room while Corey dressed and pulled himself together. He downed a glass of water and sprinkled some of the cold droplets on his face.

Heather came back in to finish turning off the machines. Not knowing whom to trust, he hesitantly asked her, "Could you help me with something else?" She turned. "I need your help locating Alice Hastings. Why is she out of the System?"

"Like I said, I didn't see any notes. I can ask."

"Thank you."

Heather left the room. After a moment, Corey stepped into the hallway, squinting in the bright lights. A couple of nurses in blue scrubs past him, laughing over something. The corridor seemed long, and the building seemed vast, clinical - colder.

Heather returned. Corey faced her. "Did you find out anything?"

"Yeah. Alice was removed from the System about ten hours ago. She was taken to a wake up room."

"Why?"

Heather shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe an unexpected visit with family or friends? Or there could be a crisis or death in the family. It could be anything. What are you so worried about?"

Corey leaned in and whispered, "Where is she? What room?"

Now Heather was starting to look suspicious. "That's not exactly…You're an Interaction Engineer. It's not part of your job to be around awake patients."

"There's not an official rule against it, right? She's a friend. I want to see her." He felt fear and frustration welling up in his chest. "Come on, Heather. You've worked with me for years."

"I have," she agreed. "And you've never asked for anything like this. You're usually big on rules."

Corey took a deep breath. "I just want to make sure she's okay. She's my friend. If she's with family, I'll leave her alone."

Heather nodded. "Fine. There's not a regulation against it, I guess. She's on the eighth floor. I don't know the room."

"Thank you."

Heather whispered after him, "Be careful. Management is keeping a closer eye on things, after that last mess."

Corey nodded. He nearly ran but didn't want to draw attention to himself. He reached the elevator and pushed the 8. He hadn't been to that floor very often and forgot to brace himself for some of the sights up there. As he walked down the hall, he saw a patient being wheeled by on a stretcher. Definitely not Alice. Corey pushed back sensations of pity and nausea. The man's body was badly burned, and he was missing both arms. He looked blinded, too.

Corey pulled his gaze away and finally reached a nurse's station. The older woman sitting there looked at him from behind her glasses. "Can I help you?" she asked.

"I'm looking for Alice Hastings," he said, out of breath. "She's awake up here."

"Are you family or friends?"

"I'm a friend."

"Okay. I'll call the room." She picked up a cordless phone and did so. Seconds ticked by. Corey impatiently shifted from foot to foot. "Hm. No answer. Please wait here."

Corey didn't wait there. He discreetly followed her down the hall. There wasn't a ton of security. After all, SCI was a hospital – not a prison. The nurse opened the door to a room and poked her head inside. Corey couldn't hear the conversation. She leaned back and closed the door. She scowled at him, probably because he hadn't waited at the station. "I'm sorry, but she's with someone right now."

"Who is she with?" Corey asked, jaw clenched.

"An SCI employee. They're in the middle of a recovery process."

"Did you tell her who it was? Tell her Corey is out here and would really, really like to talk to her."

"If you want to give me your phone number, we'll have someone call you when she's ready."

This whole situation was suspicious. With a glare, Corey pretended to turn back around, to head toward the elevator. He watched as the nurse returned to her station, her back to him. He immediately rushed back toward the room.

She saw him just as he reached the door. "Hey!" she yelled. "Sir, you do not have permission to go in there!"

Corey ignored her and threw open the door. There was Daniel, wearing his white coat and sitting at the bedside on a backwards chair.

The nurse came up behind Corey and grabbed his arm. "Sir, you are not supposed to be in here! I'm going to call security!"

Daniel quickly stood. "It's all right," he told her. "I know him. He can stay. For now." There was a smugness in his tone. "I'll let you know if we have any problems. I'm sure we won't. Right, Corey?"

"Right," Corey snapped.

Grumbling to herself, the nurse left.

Corey opened his mouth to yell. He closed it when he saw Alice. Corey hadn't prepared for that sight either, and a quiet gasp escaped his lips. She looked like a very small, very fragile, very pale version of her other self. She was lying in the bed, a large white pillow beneath her head, wearing a white hospital gown.

"Shut the door," Daniel commanded.

Corey did so. "You," Corey growled at Daniel. "You…" He was too angry to form a coherent sentence. Corey looked back at Alice and felt terrible.

Although weak, Alice could still glare at him, and she did. In a hoarse voice, nearly a whisper, she stated, "You let them erase my memory."

Corey froze. "No-"

"But you did," said Daniel, still standing. He crossed his arms. "You didn't tell her the truth."

Corey knelt beside her. "Alice. I'm sorry. I wasn't…I didn't know what to do."

She stared at him, her mouth fixed in a grimace. "You let them lie," she said.

They had never seen each other in this world. It might have been a special moment, if not for Daniel. Corey gently took her clammy hand. "It's nice to see you, meet you," he said. Her eyes softened a little. "I didn't mean for this to happen."

Daniel stepped forward, hovering over them both. "Well, you did, Corey. And now Alice and I are working to fix this. Right, Alice?"

She looked at Daniel and nodded twice. She glanced back at Corey. "We have to help Erik."

Corey hesitated. She had really made that decision so easily? He didn't know what to say.

"We do have to help Erik," Daniel agreed.

After scowling at Daniel again, Corey looked back at Alice. "He did some bad things," Corey gently began.

Each word a struggle, Alice replied, "Addiction isn't so bad. It's a-a disease. Heroin addiction needs treatment. Not punishment. SCI could be treatment."

Corey's stomach dropped. So she didn't know the truth. Daniel had lied to her about Erik's true crimes.

And Daniel wasn't about to let her find out. He stepped between them. "I think you need some time to think, Corey. About whose side you're on. Alice and I are very busy right now."

Corey stood and faced him. "You are an asshole."

Daniel chuckled. He grabbed Corey's shoulder and firmly guided him into the hallway, closing the door behind them. Alice watched but didn't protest. She stared at Corey with disappointment, obviously still feeling betrayed.

"I'll tell management," said Corey, pointing his index finger at Daniel. "You don't have Hope anymore. She's not going to protect you."

Daniel rolled his eyes. "Alice wants to be here. She wants to help Erik. Are you going to violate her right to make her own decisions?"

"Only because she doesn't know the truth!" Corey hissed. "If she knew what Erik's done-"

"Are you sure about that?"

"Why don't we find out?" Corey moved to push passed him.

Daniel held him back. "Alice is still recovering. I'd prefer you not upset her with trivial details. She wants to help my Erik. Who he is right now doesn't matter. She's willing to testify about how wonderful _my_ Erik was."

"I'm going to tell her the truth. I'm going to tell everybody about this!"

"Will you really?" asked Daniel, staring Corey directly in the eye. "You're going to let poor little Christine Daae be raped and, probably, eventually murdered – all to prove a stupid point?" Corey flinched at the graphic question. "I think not. You're too nice for that, Corey. You're too nice to let Raoul Chagny's girlfriend suffer that fate. And you don't have to do anything now except keep your mouth shut. Alice is going to help us. Then she'll go back into SCI. Everyone is happy."

"This is completely screwed up!" Corey snapped. But his mind was swinging back and forth. What was right? What was wrong? "You'd better not hurt her!"

"Alice?" Daniel asked, rolling his eyes. "I'm not going to hurt Alice. Why would I? She wanted to come out and help. You're hurting Christine by not being helpful."

Corey felt defeated. "You are an asshole."

"I'm an effective asshole," Daniel replied. He turned around and opened the door. "I fix things. Have a nice night." As Daniel closed the door, he spoke to Alice. "Sorry about that." Corey couldn't hear her question, but Daniel replied, "Don't worry about it. You can talk to him later, when he's had some time to calm down. We need to worry about poor Erik right now."

Corey slammed a fist against the wall. The nurse saw him and stood. It was time to leave.

He realized how he could stay one step ahead of Daniel, though. Corey decided to call Nadir Khan and tell him what had happened.

Maybe Mr. Khan wasn't exactly on his side. But, right now, Corey trusted Nadir more than Daniel. There was a gentleness in the older man's eyes, a humanity that Daniel was sorely lacking. At the very least, Corey was pretty sure that Nadir wouldn't let anything bad happen to Alice.

At this point, that was all Corey could hope for.

* * *

When she wasn't near him, when she hid in her room, _he_ often curled up on the cold floor and lay there for hours. Not sleeping. Barely blinking. Just getting through each minute.

He dearly missed the little red pills. In the first days, it was a very physical ache. He felt either too warm or too cold. Shaky. Nervous. Exhausted. Nauseated.

Now there was just a dullness in his head and chest, a slow sinking feeling. Now she was his drug of choice. She was much less reliable than the little pills – because she would hide in her room or frown at him or beg to leave. But when she was kind, when she offered praise, when she looked at him with no hatred in her blue eyes – oh, it was the loveliest high in the entire world. He craved it, prayed for it every day.

And now…now he could provide her with something. She did love his voice. It made her want to be around him, even in all his hideousness.

He wanted to hear her, too, of course. One evening, he dared to suggest, "Will you sing with me? In a duet?"

"All right," she murmured.

He chose a more classical piece that he had recently taught her, wishing to broaden her horizons and challenge her. She was a wilted flower who would grow with water and care. He meant it, when he said that she would be famous someday. While Christine belonged to _him_ , the rest of the undeserving world could still enjoy her talent. Their voices soon joined in harmony, and the sound of the duet was perfection. She put her heart into it, raising her face toward the sky. He watched her lips and neck as she sang and felt the gruesome urge to press his cold dead mouth against her warm flesh. He pushed his depraved thoughts away and enjoyed the sight and sound of her. Without the red pills, he needed her more than ever. And it was so very hard to resist reaching out and touching her, running a hand through her lovely hair. Burying his horrid face in that hair. Terrible, evil thoughts.

Out of breath, she sat when they were finished. She rubbed her neck. She stared at her hands.

"Wasn't that divine?" he eagerly asked her, his heart racing.

"Yes," she said. "It was amazing." Before he could revel in the moment, she asked him the oddest and most horrible of questions. "Erik, am I the only girl you've ever brought here?"

He cringed. _"What?"_

"Have you kidnapped any other women?"

"No! Of course not! Why are you asking that?" Now he wanted to hide in the darkest hole.

"I don't know."

"No. Why would you ask that?" he snapped.

She still refused to look at him. "I'm trying to figure out if you're…if you just wanted to meet me and made a really big mistake. Or if you've done other things."

Something withered inside him. "Why would that matter?"

"I don't know."

It was the first time in his wretched life that he almost wished he had not done all those other… _things._ Dead eyes and broken necks and writhing bodies and last gasps – all of them filled his mind. And she could never know about them. Ever.

She asked, "Why couldn't you have just talked to me?"

"What?"

"Instead of kidnapping me, why couldn't you have talked to me? Introduced yourself?"

"You would have run."

"I might have been cautious. But, once I'd understood your love of music, I might have been your f-friend."

"No. No, you would have run away from the monster, But you - Are you are saying that you don't think me completely awful?" he whispered. He was very ready to kneel at her feet, to take whatever crumbs of praise she offered. "That there are things about Erik that you like?"

"Well, I don't…I can't." She sighed and abruptly stood. "Erik, I'm going to bed. I'll see you tomorrow. Have a good night."

He saw something besides resentment in her eyes. He saw confusion. That should have made him very happy. But he felt oddly dejected as she left him alone in the living room.

Tomorrow, he would sing for her. He would do it every day. His voice could be her drug. Just as she would be _his_ drug.

And it was not quite ideal.

But it was the best he could ever hope to have. Without the little red pills, he could not fool himself into thinking otherwise.

He soon went into his dark room and curled into a ball on the frigid, hard floor.


	18. Chapter 18

No flu excuse this time, but I have started a new job. While I have this story outlined and the major plot points planned out, sometimes it takes me a little time to work out the filling. We're slowly approaching the middle climax. I hope you're enjoying!

 **Read and Review!**

It took three calls before Daniel finally answered his phone. Nadir felt a migraine pounding at his temples. Hours ago, he had received a panicked and disturbing call from Corey.

"Hello?" Daniel sounded annoyed.

Nadir replied, with just as much warmth, "You ask me before making any major decisions!"

A pause. Daniel chuckled. "Oh, Corey called you, didn't he? Heh. Should've figured that he would."

"You involved someone else without asking me. Is this girl going to be discreet? I don't know anything about her. I have no idea what you're doing!"

"She's fine. Better than that. She has an incredibly high opinion of _my_ Erik and wants to help him. Plus, she'll get us a lot of sympathy from Governor Dumbass. I've done you a big favor, Mr. Khan. You're welcome!"

Nadir hesitated. "You're sure she's physically up to the task? Corey said she's not in the best health."

"Compared to some of the other SCI patients, she's an Olympic champion. She'll be fine for a couple days."

"Corey also said you weren't up front with her about Erik's crimes…"

"Of course I wasn't. That would have been stupid. It would ruin her testimony."

"You're going to have to keep her from the news. The Internet." Nadir sighed. Yet he couldn't completely disagree with Daniel. "This is all dishonest."

Daniel groaned. "You people are making it really hard for me to get the job done."

"I am only trying to think through the implications of all this. If you had asked me first, I would be less upset."

"Whatever," Daniel snapped. "Are you going to let her testify? Or should I put her back?"

Nadir knew there was only one good answer. "Let me meet her first. Then I'll tell you if it's a good idea."

"Fine," said Daniel. "Come see her whenever you want."

"I don't think it's wise for me to go to SCI. Is it possible to take her somewhere else?"

"I can do that. With-"

Nadir was one step ahead of him. "With Gabby's help," he interrupted. "Make sure Gabby is there in case of any medical emergencies. I want her to oversee all of this."

"Fine. And calm down. You're not going to regret this."

Nadir rolled his eyes. "You ask me before you do anything else like this. Do you understand?"

"I hear you. You have a good day."

Shaking his head, Nadir contacted Gabby next. Like him, she was far from thrilled by Daniel's actions. "Well, I hope he's taking her through the proper recovery processes!" Gabby exclaimed. "Patient care is not his specialty."

"That's why I need you to get a handle on it. Go help him. When Alice is ready to leave and meet with me, let me know. I can take it from there."

Gabby quickly agreed, and Nadir got a call from her early the next day - "Alice needs some time to gain her strength. At least enough to sit up in a wheelchair. She also needs pain medication, but I'll try to limit the dosage so that she's lucid. Otherwise, I think it'll be okay. She's in better shape than a lot of our patients."

"And you think she'll be a good witness?" Nadir asked.

"I…do," said Gabby after a moment. "I mean, I haven't asked her about Erik. But she seems reasonable. I trust her."

"That's good. It's not so good that we're lying to her."

"Not exactly lying," said Gabby. "Withholding the truth. For a good cause, though, right?" He didn't reply. "What do you want me to say?" she asked with frustration. "This wasn't my idea."

"Nothing," he replied, shaking his head. "Don't worry about it. You're doing great. Call me when you need me."

By the next day, Nadir was reminded as to why he was walking along this ethically murky path. Raoul called him, panicking because he didn't feel like any progress was being made. "No one has anything on Christine. The police are starting to give up. Some of them think she's dead. Or was sold into human trafficking. They won't even listen to me."

"We are stilling working very hard," Nadir reassured him. "We have a plan."

"What plan?" asked Raoul. "You're not going to ask that Corey guy to testify, right?"

"No. We've found another witness. Between her and Daniel, it's a good start. I'm going to meet her soon."

Of course, Raoul was still certain that none of this would work. Precious days were ticking by.

By now, Erik and Christine could be halfway around the world.

Or right next door.

* * *

In a highly abnormal situation, normalcy slowly crept in. Barely noticeable. Until it had settled in so much that there was no escaping it.

At some point, Christine stopped fearing that he was going to hurt her. She didn't worry about coming out of her room. She didn't flinch when he came too close. Erik never touched her.

She would go about her day. Eating, reading, singing. She would come out in her pajamas and lie on the sofa until ten, immersed in a suspense novel. She would gather her laundry. Christine offered to wash her own clothes, but Erik wouldn't let her. He had allowed her to cook dinner a couple of times, at her insistence. She made a green enchilada casserole, which Erik refused to taste until after she had gone to bed.

She would give him lists of personal needs, some of which were initially mortifying. Without a word, he would leave cardboard boxes of requested items at her door. At some point, mortification turned to slight embarrassment.

Instead of escape, her primary goal became simply going into a public place with him. If she could convince him to take her into civilization, that would be a start toward - something. Dinner out. The movies. Bowling. Even a walk around a city block.

"Soon," he would always say when she made the suggestion. "I will take you very, very soon."

Music made her imprisonment less maddening. At least her days weren't wasted. Not that they had been wasted with Raoul, but she had stagnated a little bit due to grief. If she ever did escape, she would join another theater and make music a permanent part of her life. She felt comfort in that thought, as though she had found the missing piece of herself.

And - Erik's voice was absolutely divine. She was still convinced that he come be famous someday, even if it were only anonymously.

Unless Christine made sure that he was arrested for all this. Would she? She didn't dwell on that question very much.

She did dwell on going somewhere. Until finally, after a vocal lesson, she proclaimed, "I want a chocolate milkshake."

He looked up and tilted his head. "I will obtain the ingredients tomorrow and make you one."

"No. I want to go out and get one."

"Perhaps someday."

"No. Soon! Tomorrow. Erik, can't we ever go into public? I'm not trying to get away. I want to go out."

"We do go out…"

"I want to see other human beings," she replied. "I grew up in the city. I'm used to other people."

"Eventually, we will."

"Really? Or are you just saying that?" He didn't respond. "What if I want a job someday? Or to get my degree?" Her hands clenched at her sides.

"Of course you will have those things. In another location, perhaps. Where people would be less likely to recognize you."

"Then why are we still here?" she asked. "Let's go somewhere else." She was surprised when she said it. Was she actually asking him to take her farther from Raoul – farther from her home city and apartment and the place where she had grown up? But she didn't retract the statement.

"You would go with me?" he softly asked. He swept his fingers along the piano without pressing the keys.

"Anything to get out for a little bit. But can't we start with a short trip? There are nearby towns. Or - I don't even care. Please. I won't run. We'll have…fun."

"Fine," said Erik. "Fine. I will take you out for your godforsaken milkshake."

She pestered him about it two more times, figuring if she were annoying enough, Erik would have to give in. And he did. They went out in the evening. It had been forever since she was even inside a car. The vehicle was black with a soft interior, reminding her of a casket. The inside smelled fairly new. She released a breath as he started the engine. Finally, a step in the right direction.

After ten miles or so on the road, Christine started to recognize her surroundings. There was a familiar abandoned barn, collapsing under its own weight. A horse farm with a brown and white colt standing by its mother. Two small houses, one light blue and one yellow, likely built in the 1950's. The lights were on. The setting sun made the sky orange.

 _Life._ Here was the world, and here was life. It had not disappeared while she was away.

Christine glanced at Erik. It was strange to see him driving, his mask on and his eyes staring forward. He was a fast driver but not reckless. Soft, classical music played on the radio station. She settled into the seat for the next twenty minutes.

They finally arrived at a small suburb. It had the usual. A McDonald's. A Taco Bell. A Walmart. Two gas stations and a bank. Now she could see people, walking to their cars. Parents holding their children's hands. An elderly couple. They were all so close.

Erik muttered something about a milkshake. Christine had honestly forgotten about it. "The McDonald's is fine," she said.

"We can do better than that," said Erik. "There is a locally owned store that received high ratings."

She had a funny mental vision of Erik browsing the Internet for ice cream store reviews. Like anyone else would.

They were soon parked in front of a little wooden building. A light blue sign shaped like a cowbell said: Dolly's Ice Cream Boutique. Bright lights shown from the inside. "This is cute," she said, watching a lady with two twin boys emerge, each one holding an ice cream cone. Erik was reaching into the backseat. "What are you doing?"

He held up a large white surgical mask and sunglasses, as well as a piece of flesh-colored rubber. "If I go in there in a black mask, they will think I am robbing them. Unless you would enjoy a thrilling high speed chase – and who wouldn't? - I will put these on."

"Oh." She shifted, realizing how difficult normal activities must be for him. Couldn't someone make Erik a better prosthetic? Or there was surgery. She didn't say these things out loud. It wasn't her business.

He turned away from her. "Look the other way while I remove my mask," he said, softly. "Or you might catch a glimpse."

She stared forward, twiddling her thumbs, and said, "You know, Erik, I don't need ice cream. I'm not hungry."

"Nonsense. If you will simply close your eyes, this will only take a minute. Then you will not see my face, and it will not ruin your appetite."

Her heart clenched. She touched the arm of his suit jacket with the tip of her fingers. He flinched and dropped the sunglasses and stared at her. "I'm s-sorry," she stuttered. "I just…you don't have to do this for me. It has nothing to do with seeing your face. I wanted to get out of the house. I don't need a milkshake. It looks like all that stuff is uncomfortable for you to put on. So you don't have to, if you don't want to. That's all I'm saying."

"Then what _do_ you want to do?" he asked with a tremor in his voice.

She shrugged. "We could drive around. Watch people. Listen to the radio. That would all make me happy."

"Are you certain?"

"Yes. Unless you want ice cream? Then we can get some."

"Not especially."

"Okay. Let's drive around then."

He nodded and backed out of the parking lot.

Mission accomplished.

* * *

After about a week, Nadir finally received a much anticipated call from Gabby. "I think we're ready," she said. "Alice is strong enough to at least sit up. It's hard to make her completely comfortable, but this is only for a couple days, right?"

"Right," said Nadir. "I have Raoul working on setting up the meeting with the Governor. Where should we take her?"

"Maybe a hotel room," Gabby suggested. "We wouldn't have neighbors around, wondering what in the heck we're doing. It could be private."

"Sounds good. Make sure you're not noticed when you're leaving SCI."

Once they'd set up the meeting, Nadir felt nervous as the time approached. It was one thing to have shady agreements with people who were generally on the same page, who all had something to gain. It was another thing to bring innocent people into the debacle. But surely they weren't asking too much of Alice.

He dressed nicely for the occasion, grey slacks and a white button-down dress shirt. He headed over to a Fairfield Inn around seven in the evening, after a dinner of a frozen pepperoni pizza. His diet would eventually kill him. There were worse ways to go, though. On the wrong end of Erik's noose, for one.

Nadir walked into a polished hotel lobby, muttered a good evening to the gentleman at the front desk, and took an elevator to the third floor. He knocked at Room 318. To his annoyance and surprise, Daniel answered. "Hello!" he said with a smile that reeked of superiority.

"Good evening," said Nadir. He scratched his nose and was thankful when Gabby appeared.

She gave him a tired smile. "Hello there."

"Everything okay?" Nadir asked

"Yes," said Gabby. "Going well. She's this way. Daniel has been helping me getting everything situated."

Nadir first noticed prescription medication on the dresser. He felt even worse when he saw the girl, lying under the thick covers of a king-sized bed. When he reached out to shake Alice's hand, Nadir was afraid he might snap her arm in two. She couldn't have weighed more than a hundred pounds. "It's nice to meet you," he said, his voice awkward in his ears.

"It's nice to meet you, too," she replied, softly. Nadir pulled up a chair from the desk.

"Do you need us?" said Gabby.

"No," said Nadir, glancing at Daniel. "In fact, maybe it'd be best if you gave us a moment alone."

Gabby nodded. Daniel didn't protest. They both left, the door softly clicking shut behind them.

Nadir looked back at Alice. "How are you feeling? Can I get you anything?"

"No. Mostly, I want to sleep. But I'm okay."

"I'm sorry about all this. It's been a mess." Gabby had already explained what Alice did and didn't know. Nadir was careful with his words.

"It's okay. I want to help Erik get out of prison," she said, glancing at her folded hands. "It doesn't seem fair."

 _That was debatable. And Erik wasn't even in prison…_

Alice seemed uncomfortable by his lack of reply. She continued, "You know Erik, right? Gabby said you did."

"Yes, I know Erik. I brought him to SCI, thinking it would help him."

She nodded. "I think it did."

"Do you?" Nadir leaned back. "Why don't you tell me about the Erik you know? I'd love to hear. Paint me a vivid picture. All the details you can remember."

"Okay. I'll try." Alice closed her eyes. "I first saw Erik at a bar that my friends and I go to. He would play the piano in the corner. He played really, really well. We don't have a lot of artists or musicians there, so he stood out. We tried to befriend him, but he was kind of shy. Then I saw him outside one day, walking by himself. I showed him around. You want vivid. Uh. It was a bright, sunny day. Well, it's usually sunny there. Sorry."

"You're fine. Do your best. In fact, forget about being vivid. Just tell me about him in your own words."

"Okay." She paused. Alice slowly spoke again and, after a little while, she warmed up. She spoke of showing Erik the town. She recalled picnics and volleyball games. A hike up her favorite mountain, following a trail through the trees and to a stream. Barbecues. Game nights with pizza. Alice suddenly stopped speaking and stared at Nadir's face. "Why do you look like you don't believe anything I'm saying?"

"Huh?" Nadir shook his head. "No, I believe you. It sounds like Erik was very happy there."

"He was, I think. But he was also confused a lot of the time." Alice glanced to the side as though to make sure that Gabby and Daniel weren't there. "They took too many memories. SCI took all his memories, and I think Erik could sense something was off."

Nadir knew that SCI hadn't had much of a choice, if they had wanted to normalize Erik as much as possible.

"Especially the-the girl. That really confused him."

Nadir abruptly looked down. "What?"

Alice tilted her head. Her fingers played with the edge of the blanket. "Erik remembered a girl. Well, he didn't remember her. But he remembered her voice. He'd spend hours trying to capture it on the piano. Do you know who she was?"

Nadir felt the blood drain from his face. So many dominoes, just waiting to fall. "I never met her," he replied and then changed the subject. "In all your encounters with Erik, you never feared him? You never felt threatened?"

"No. Well. Maybe on the last night. The night he disappeared from the System. He got really upset. Angry. But that's when he was being arrested, right? And all his memories came back."

"Yes, his memories would have returned that night. Gabby and I were trying to help him escape, and we failed. I'm sorry that you were put in that position."

Alice shrugged. "I'm sorrier for Erik. He must have been so scared and sad."

 _More like furious and murderously irritated._

She looked up at Nadir expectantly. "Now it's your turn. I've told you about the Erik I know. Who do you know?"

He should have been expecting that question. Nadir rubbed a hand over his mouth, feeling stubble. He'd forgotten to shave.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

 _How to put this?_ "Alice, I think you'll make an excellent witness in front of the Governor. I'm going to sit with you and Daniel, and we're going to polish up your words. Strengthen certain parts. Downplay others. I don't want you to memorize what you're going to say, but we are going to have a narrative."

"You didn't answer my question."

"I know." Nadir leaned forward again, his elbows resting on his knees and his hands clasped together. "Here's the thing. I think you're testimony will be better if you don't know about the real Erik." She opened her mouth to protest, but Nadir quickly continued, "The more you learn, the more your testimony will be weakened. Because you'll feel less confident in what you're saying."

"How do you know it will change my testimony?" she asked with slight indignation.

"I just know," said Nadir.

Her eyes widened. "That's why Gabby and Daniel won't let me see the news, isn't it? It's why they won't let me have Wi-Fi."

Nadir nodded. "I know what you're wondering. What else has he done? You must have a million questions. Here's another question to ask yourself. Does it matter who Erik is in this world? Should that information change your testimony concerning the Erik you knew in SCI?" Nadir looked into her eyes. "And the final question you have to ask yourself, Alice, is whether you saw something worth saving in him? Did you see something good in the Erik you knew?"

"Yes," she said. "I wouldn't have come out here if I hadn't. But-"

"Then there's your answer. If you want to help him, that's your answer." Nadir tried to keep a stern expression and tone. He had to win this argument, despite his own reservations.

Alice bit her bottom lip and looked down. Her chest rose as she inhaled. She looked back up. "All right," she said. "But after I testify, do I get the truth?"

Nadir knew she would search for the truth no matter what. "Yes. I'll tell you everything."

"All right."

"Thank you." He reached out. She took his hand, and he squeezed hers in gratitude.

She said, "If you're an ex-cop and you're doing this for him, then you must see something worth saving, too. Right?"

"I guess so," he replied, feeling that ache in his chest. He withdrew his hand and stood. "I'll let you get some rest."

At that moment, Nadir's phone rang. He pulled it out and looked at the screen. _Raoul._ "I'd better answer. You take care, Alice. I'll see you soon."

"Goodnight," she murmured, scooting down onto the pillow.

Nadir went out into the hallway and answered the call. "Hello?"

His voice filled with both joy and terror, Raoul shouted, "She's alive! She's definitely still alive!"

* * *

They had more car trips in the days ahead. They would drive around the countryside or around small towns, sometimes for hours. They listened to a variety of music - classical, jazz, 1970's ballads, anything that Erik didn't find too 'dreadful.' Her feelings of claustrophobia lifted. She was in a better mood, less frustrated. It even showed in her singing, Erik noted.

Then, one night, Erik stopped at a gas station. No other vehicles were there. She waited as he filled the car, crinkling her nose at the smells of exhaust and gasoline. The fumes and warm air became too much. She cracked her door open for ventilation. She had done this in the past, and Erik had never forbidden it, as long as she didn't climb out or allow anyone to see her face. She turned her head, looking around and inhaling the fresher air. Another car pulled up to the pumps across from them.

The door on the driver's side opened. Someone climbed out.

Raoul.

She could see the side of his face as he walked toward the pumps. He needed a haircut. One of his arms was still in a sling. Christine froze. He was so very close to her. He would hear her if she called out. Her heart hammered in her chest. She leaned forward, opening her door a few inches more.

Raoul glanced up, almost looking directly at her. At that moment, Erik saw him, too. She had no time to process the situation, to make any sort of decision.

"Close your damned door, and turn away from the window!" Erik snapped, slamming his door. She obeyed and was jolted as the car sped forward. They turned the corner, onto the street, before she was able to see how Raoul reacted. Her door had only been slightly ajar, and the windows were heavily tinted. It was possible that Raoul hadn't even seen her. "Is that why you want to go out?" Erik snarled. "To catch sight of him?"

Her mouth fell open. "Of course not! How would I know that Raoul was going to be here? It was a coincidence!" Erik didn't reply. "Maybe he didn't see me. And, if he saw me, at least he knows I'm okay."

"He will also know that you are nearby."

"Then we can leave," she muttered, folding her arms against her stomach. "Or I could call him and let him know I'm okay. And not to worry about me."

"He won't believe you," Erik replied, turning another corner so quickly that she fell sideways against the door.

"It might help," she replied, straightening herself. "Even prisoners get one phone call."

"You are not a prisoner!"

She whirled to face him. "Then quit treating me like one!"

Erik pulled onto a dark and unfamiliar street. He parked against a sidewalk. She could see the outline of a playground and picnic tables in the distance. They were near a public park. "He saw you," said Erik.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. I saw him in the rearview mirror. Chagny dropped the fuel nozzle, like an idiot, and ran after the car."

"He'll have no idea where we went," she replied, now worried again for Raoul's safety. "It'll be fine."

"Tell him you are well. Tell that vile halfwit that you don't want to see him."

She looked at Erik and saw that he was holding out a small phone. "What?" she whispered.

"Make your call. Do it quickly. The phone is untraceable. If you give away any information as to our location, we will be gone by tomorrow. And you will never see this city again."

With a trembling hand, she took the black phone. It took her a moment to remember Raoul's number. Her throat closed up as it rang. _Please answer._ He did. Raoul probably answered all his calls now, hoping it was her. How many annoying telemarketers had he spoken to for her sake?

"Hello?" he asked. She could hear panic in his voice.

She swallowed. "Hi."

"Christine?" he whispered. His voice grew louder. "Christine. Oh my God! I knew I saw you. Where are you? Are you okay? Where are you?!"

It was so strange to hear his voice after all this time. "I'm fine. I'm not hurt."

"Where are you?! Are you still with that-"

"Raoul." The phone was on a loud volume setting, which allowed Erik to hear the entire conversation. "I'm fine. I need you to not worry about me. I'm going to be okay."

"You have to tell me where you are! I'll find you! I'll send the cops!"

"I can't. Please. Please don't worry." Her eyes teared up. "You have to leave me alone."

"Is he there?" Raoul sounded like he was speaking through gritted teeth. "You tell that evil asshole that we're going to send him back to-"

Before Raoul finished his sentence, Erik grabbed the phone and hung up. She sat there, stunned. "Enough," snapped Erik. "You have done what you asked for. The conversation is finished."

She took a shaky breath and dared to ask, "What was he going to say? Go back to where?"

"Hell," Erik nearly hissed. "He was going to say, 'Send him back to Hell.'"

Christine didn't argue, but she also didn't believe Erik. Raoul had seemed as though he were speaking purposefully – not throwing out insults.

Christine bowed her head as Erik left the park and they headed home. She had the feeling there wasn't going to be another outing soon. Everything had gotten ruined by pure chance.

She looked up. Unless - maybe she could make the drive home a little more pleasant. It would be better than this awful tense silence.

"What's your favorite memory?"

He glanced at her, maybe surprised by the question. "Any memory with you in it," he replied. "You are my favorite memory."

"But what about before me?"

"There are none."

"Here. I'll go first. My favorite memory was going on a picnic with my mom and dad. I was about twelve. My dad had steady work, and my mom was in a good mood. My parents and I went to the countryside and had a picnic. It was a warm day. I remember lying on the blanket and staring up at the sky. I think I got a sunburn on my nose. Anyway, it was one of those moments where everything felt like it was going to be okay." He didn't say anything. "Your turn."

"You go again," he said. "You have very nice memories."

"Fine. Um. In fifth grade, my dad was out of work for several months. My mom was in a really bad mood, yelling at us both for everything. I would try to stay out of the house as much possible. One night, my friend invited me to sleep over. Her mom was really relaxed and friendly. Her name was Betty, and she had this bright red curly hair, like Lucy, and she was always smiling. She made us cookies and cocoa. And my friend and I snuggled up in our sleeping bags and watched Disney movies until four in the morning." They were almost home. She looked at Erik. "Now you have to go."

"I cannot," he said. "I have nothing like that."

"You must have one," she insisted. "One happy memory before me." Erik was quiet, and she thought he was refusing to answer. At least he wasn't still angry at Raoul. Christine started to look out her window.

Staring forward, Erik said, "I went on a hike once. Up a mountain. It was pleasant, I suppose."

"That sounds fun. Did you go with someone?"

"A…friend."

Her eyes widened in shock. _Erik had friends!?_ "That's great. Tell me more about it."

Erik shifted. His hands gripped the wheel more tightly. "Never mind. I should not have spoken of it. It does not count."

"Of course it counts! That's a good memory. A hike with a friend into the mountains? That counts!"

"It does not count." His eyes looked so strange. "I do not wish to speak of it."

"All right," she replied. Raoul's words echoed in her mind.

" _You tell that evil asshole that we're going to send him back to-"_

Back to where?


	19. Chapter 19

Hi all. Not too much to say about this chapter. The chapters following this one should pick up in intensity. I hope you'll stick with me through them :)

 **Read and Review!**

"Should we call the police?"

Nadir hesitated. "No. I don't think that's a good idea."

"Why not?" Raoul asked, his voice shrill and strained. "Maybe they could trace the phone."

"I don't think so. Erik would be too smart for that. If he allowed Christine to call you, it's safe to assume that he took all possible precautions. And if we suddenly send a bunch of cops down there, he might take off with her. We should be thankful that they're nearby."

Raoul groaned. "You make him sound like - I don't know. Some kind of super villain."

"Erik is smart and dangerous. And the only reason I was able to detain him last time was because he turned himself in. If he leaves with her, they'll wind up on the other side of the world, and you'll never see her again."

"I think we should still try. This thing with my dad isn't going to work. I told him everything we talked about, how Erik will never be caught unless he has a reason to come back. How he's more dangerous than any other criminal. How he wasn't a threat in SCI. I've told him ten times!"

"Have you set up a meeting?" Nadir asked.

"He's really reluctant. But I finally got him to agree to a Saturday afternoon. Did you get a witness besides Daniel?"

"Yes. Alice," said Nadir. "I think she'll be good. She has a unique perspective."

"Fine," said Raoul, sounding unconvinced. "I'm really tempted to go back to that area and start looking by myself."

"Don't," said Nadir in the sternest voice he could muster. "You'll have no chance if you encounter him. None. It's a death sentence."

"Fine," Raoul muttered. "Let me know when you need me."

"Don't do it," Nadir warned. "Stay away from him."

"I heard you," Raoul replied. "Have a good night."

Nadir felt disturbed as he hung up. He bid goodbye to Gabby and Daniel before he left the hotel. After climbing into his car, he decided to get a chocolate milkshake.

* * *

At least burning curiosity and building anxiety made it easier to ignore the pain.

Alice told herself this as she lay in bed, staring at a crack in the hotel ceiling. She was grateful for sleep because it made the hours pass quickly. She wanted to get her testimony over with and begin her own interrogation. A lot of people owed her a lot of answers.

Not that she didn't worry about poor Erik, too. Was he in jail right now, surrounded by violent criminals who might hurt him…or worse? Was he terrified, missing the security of SCI?

When Nadir came, she asked if there was a way to visit Erik in jail. Or at least talk to him. Nadir shot that idea down so quickly that Alice wondered if Erik were incarcerated. If not, where was he? An institution? Some secret government…hole?

There wasn't enough information for her to begin making guesses. She would have to wait. It wouldn't be too much longer now.

Corey came into her room once. He looked tired. Or maybe that was just his real self. He appeared similar to his SCI self, except there were more little flaws. A tiny scar on his upper lip. Stubble. Imperfections that made one human. Daniel hovered nearby, probably to make sure that Corey didn't say anything he wasn't supposed to.

She wasn't angry with Corey anymore. The conversation with Nadir had made some things clearer. She gave Corey a quick one-armed hug.

"How are you?" he asked, taking a seat at the desk.

"I'm okay. Gabby has been keeping me comfortable."

"Good. Hey. I wanted to tell you I was sorry again. For not telling you about all this."

"It's okay. Nadir explained that I'm not supposed to know everything, since it might ruin my testimony."

Corey swallowed and nodded. "And you still want to go forward with it?"

"Yes. I do. I'm confused, but I'd rather err on the side of helping Erik."

Corey didn't protest, although she could tell that he knew something troubling. "So what's next?" he asked.

"Nadir is going to help me polish up my testimony. Daniel, too. Then I guess we meet with the Governor. That's all I know." She paused. "It does sort of seem like a longshot. Why would the Governor care about helping us at all?"

Corey started to speak, "Because Raoul-"

"And that's enough!" loudly interrupted Daniel. "Nice, Corey. We all know why you're not working for the CIA."

"Sorry. It's hard to remember what she doesn't know!" Corey snapped.

Alice looked between them. "I guess I don't get to know who Raoul is?"

"The Governor's youngest son," Daniel replied.

"And how is he involved in this?" she asked.

Daniel smirked. "That's what you don't get to know."

Corey shook his head. "I guess I'd better leave before I say anything else."

"That's the best idea you've had in weeks," said Daniel. They had a weird relationship.

Alice gave Corey another quick hug. She looked forward to talking to him after all this was over.

Over the next few days, Nadir visited and helped her prepare. She was supposed to stress how normal Erik was in the System, downplaying his idiosyncrasies. That wasn't too difficult. Erik had been a little strange, but he had still fallen well within the confines of 'normal.' She did ask one question that was troubling her. "Why does Daniel want Erik back so badly?"

"Well," Nadir began, and his eyes looked disturbed. "Without saying too much, I think it's because Daniel sees Erik as a project."

Alice winced. "That sounds a little creepy. If we get Erik back, Daniel won't hurt him. Right?"

Nadir seemed to force a reassuring smile. "Gabby wouldn't let that happen. Erik will be treated well at SCI. I mean, you feel that you've been treated humanely by the company, right?" He seemed genuinely interested in her response.

"Yeah. I mean, sometimes I feel like a guinea pig. But I don't think there's really a way around that. I support SCI. They saved my life."

Nadir nodded. "I hope they can save Erik's life, too."

Between Nadir's visits, Alice mostly watched movies or read books. She ate a little bit. Once, Gabby and Daniel brought her a fancy steak dinner with garlic mashed potatoes and key lime pie. She'd forgotten how good 'real' food tasted. SCI hadn't quite perfected the sense of taste.

The big day eventually arrived. Gabby bought her a navy skirt and white blouse, along with some flesh-colored stockings. Governor Chagny apparently wasn't a fan of bright colors. Alice went along with it all.

Gabby helped Alice dress and then brought her downstairs to the hotel lobby. Alice was relieved to leave the hotel room and squinted in the bright sunlight streaming through the windows. Near the entrance, Nadir was speaking to a handsome man in his early twenties, who had very worried blue eyes. The man's arm was also in a sling and faded bruises covered his face. What had happened to him?

Nadir held out an open palm as though to say: _What do you want me to do?_ The younger man furiously waved his good hand in the air, toward the glass doors and said something. Unfortunately, Alice wasn't much of a lip reader. Nadir then gestured toward Alice. The younger man looked at her. His eyes softened a little. After a hesitation, he walked over to her. "Hi," he said. "Alice?"

"Yes," she replied. She hadn't talked much that day, conserving her energy, and so her voice was a little hoarse.

"I wanted to tell you thanks for doing this. It means a lot. Anything you need, anything to make you more comfortable, please let me know."

"I…will. Thank you."

Alice knew, even before Gabby told her, that the young man had to be Raoul Chagny. He soon left the hotel at a fast pace. Nadir watched Raoul go and shook his head.

 _So many questions…_

Then it was time to leave. Alice took a deep breath, more nervous about actually facing the Governor. She got the impression that he wasn't the friendliest person.

Going into SCI, Alice had been teased about the children's book many times. But this whole situation, in the real world, felt like darkest rabbit hole she had ever been down. Everyone looked so sad and scared. She was afraid of the truth now. Because then she would be sad and scared, too.

* * *

 _He_ felt restless.

He felt as though they should leave soon. Very soon. The world was closing in on them, threatening their happiness. Chagny had seen them. The vile idiot would likely send the police in the direction of the cottage. And _he_ still was not sure if Khan was also plotting against him. In fact, Khan had been strangely quiet.

 _He_ had been so occupied with his Angel that he had perhaps paid less attention to the rest of the world than he should have.

She read on the couch that afternoon. The sight of her made him feel calmer. No matter what, she was right here, and she would never, ever, _ever_ leave his side. He knelt at the foot of the couch, near her leg, and stared up at her adoringly.

She set her book down. "Erik?"

He feared she would tell him to go away. "Yes, my dear?"

"You can sit on the couch, too. Instead of the floor. Why don't you find something to read?"

 _She had invited him to sit by her!_

It had been a long time since he had read an entire book. Occasionally, he would pick up a something useful to browse through. A guide to the latest trends on hacking, for example. _He_ grabbed something off the shelf without looking at it and sat on the other cushion. He was next to her. Right next to his Christine.

He opened the book and stared at the first page, too ecstatic to absorb any of the information. He felt her looking at him. She laughed.

Christine had a lovely laugh. Yet it startled him. "What?" he asked more harshly than he meant to.

"Erik, you're reading a refrigerator manual."

He was quick to defend himself, despite the ridiculousness. "My refrigerator is not cooling properly. I wish to repair it."

"Oookay," she replied, the hint of a smile on her face. "Well, have fun with that."

It suddenly dawned on him that he did have another asset, besides his voice. Nadir had commented on it long ago. They had been drinking whiskey on a hotel balcony, half-heartedly celebrating Nadir's recent promotion. A promotion only earned because _he_ had fed Khan secrets regarding the criminal underworld, thereby leading to arrests.

" _Erik, you are the cause of ninety-nine percent of my problems. You know that?"_

" _Then why do you not simply shoot me, old friend? Save us both the trouble? It's been a good run."_

 _Khan had shaken his head. "You make me laugh, I suppose. That's why I keep you around."_

" _How delightful to know that my sole purpose is to amuse you. I might as well off myself and escape such a meaningless existence."_

" _No, no. I need a Joker to go with my Batman." Khan had to be fairly intoxicated by that point, something that was rather rare in their interactions, as Khan usually liked to be in control._

" _Khan, if you fancy yourself a superhero, then you are truly and irreparably pathetic."_

Humor. Humor was his other asset.

 _He_ said to her, awkwardly trying to recapture the mood of that moment, "Perhaps if you will read the air conditioning manual, we could improve that as well."

She looked up and squinted at him. And _he_ felt so small and disgusting. Christine shook her head, but he did see the shadow of a smile. "Erik. If you're looking for someone who's handy around the house, you kidnapped the wrong girl. I had to call Ra—for help when my lightbulb needed changing."

Of course he was angry about her near mention of the boy. "I will change your damned lightbulbs," he informed her. And all the humor was gone.

He stood abruptly and placed his hands behind his back. He did not face her as he said, "Christine, you said you would go with me. To a different city. Do you still agree to do so?"

"Go where?" she softly asked.

"Anywhere! New York. California. Europe. Where do you want to go?"

He heard her shift on the cushions. "I don't have a passport."

"Trivial details. I can get you anything you need."

A long pause. "I want to stay in the U.S. for now."

"Fine. We will. But the farther we go, the more freedom you will have. School. Singing for an audience. You could do all that in a different country, especially if we alter your appearance."

"What do you mean by alter?" She sounded alarmed.

"Perhaps give you a wig. Cut your hair. Nothing extreme. I will not ask you to cut off your nose. You certainly do not need to look like me."

"Oh." Finally, he looked at her. She was staring at her hands. "Could I have some time to think about it?"

"Yes." He stared at her as she played with a strand of hair. "You are so lovely. You make me so happy. I will be happy anywhere with you."

"Erik, I'm just…" She sighed.

"I will make you happy."

"Let's read," she said and went back to her book.

He sat beside her. He picked up the manual and returned to it.

 _ **Water and Ice Dispensers – Use and Safety**_

He very discreetly scooted closer to her, hoping she wouldn't notice.

* * *

Alice was strong enough to sit up, once she was seated in Gabby's car. She stared out the backseat window, somewhat enjoying the sights of real life. Some of them were depressing, like the homeless people on many corners, holding cardboard signs with dirty, wrinkled hands. Still, there was more variety out here. More to eat. More to see. Still, the pain in her limbs, which intensified with each passing day, was a constant reminder as to why she couldn't stay.

Gabby parked near a complex of government buildings. They were tall and grey, made of stone, and kind of intimidating. "Are you ready?" Gabby softly asked, turning around.

"I guess so," she replied. Gabby helped Alice into the wheelchair and they headed into one of the larger buildings. It smelled like ink inside. Security guards eyed them, but there was no trouble. Rather than go through the metal detector, Alice was given a gentle and quick pat down. She and Gabby met Daniel and Raoul on the other side. It wasn't safe for Nadir to be there, to make his involvement too obvious. He would meet them afterwards. Alice wished that he was there, though. There was something kind of calming about Mr. Khan.

Daniel testified first. Alice and Gabby stayed in a plush waiting room. Raoul paced in the hallways. He seemed to care about this more than the rest of them, which Alice found strange. He finally came inside the room.

"You have got to calm down. You're making me nervous," said Gabby.

"I want to know what's going in there," Raoul replied.

Gabby shook her head. "Walking back and forth isn't going to solve that problem."

Raoul ran a hand through his hair. "Daniel is probably screwing this up."

"We'll still have Alice," said Gabby, glancing at her. "She's more important than Daniel anyway."

Raoul didn't look reassured. "I'm worried that nothing is going to help."

"We're doing everything we can."

Finally, the door opened. They all turned as Daniel stepped out. He looked a little less cocky than usual.

Raoul quickly approached him. "How'd it go?"

Daniel shrugged. "I did my best. If Governor Chagny doesn't go along with it, he's an idiot."

Raoul looked miserable. "He didn't buy it, did he?"

Daniel glared slightly. "I don't know! Like I said, I did my best."

"It's your turn," Gabby said to her as they continued to argue. "Good luck, dear."

"Thanks," Alice murmured. Her heart began to beat quickly. Her mouth was dry as Gabby wheeled her into the Governor's office. Then Gabby left, shutting the door behind her and leaving Alice alone with the Governor.

He was as intimidating as Alice expected. His mouth was drawn into a stern line. His clothes were perfectly pressed. The only items that softened his office were the photographs of his two sons. Otherwise, there was just dark wood furniture and stacks of paper.

But Governor Chagny also looked kind of tired. Maybe a little less confident than she had imagined. Alice started to push herself to her feet in a show of respect.

"No, no." He put up a large hand. "You don't have to stand. Thank you. Alice?"

"Yes, Governor."

"It's nice to meet you." His voice was deep but not unpleasant. He held out a hand, and she shook it.

"You, too." Her stomach bubbled nervously.

"So you're from SCI? You're a patient?"

"Yes."

"All right. Well, let's get down to it. You have something you'd like to say to me?"

"Yes." She tried to pull her thoughts together. "I wanted to talk to you about Erik."

The Governor's expression darkened. "Yes. So I've heard. Well. What about him?"

 _God, she was nervous._ "I wanted to tell you about him. I mean, the Erik I know." He didn't reply, and so she quickly continued. Alice told him everything that she had told Nadir, stressing how nice and normal her interactions had been. "We had fun together. He was a normal kid. Except very smart and talented. And a good kid." She exhaled. Her hands were shaking.

"A kid," Governor Chagny slowly repeated.

"Yes. And I just…I think there should be compassion for drug addicts. Treatment instead of punishment."

"Addicts," he again repeated. _Was he a parrot?_

"Yes," said Alice. She clasped her hands together. "I'm-I'm pleading for mercy for him. For compassion."

Governor Chagny had a pained look on his face. He rubbed his left temple. He silently stared at her for so long that Alice squirmed. Finally, the Governor said, "I promised my son to let you testify. I promised him that I wouldn't provide information that would influence your statement. But I think that I can say this." Another pause. She leaned forward, heart racing. "Alice, if we were talking about addiction, about some guy shooting up heroin - of course I'd have compassion. I can see both sides of that issue. But we are not talking about that."

"Then what are we talking about?" she softly asked.

"Does it matter to you?" he asked, tilting his head. "Does the crime matter to you?"

Alice shifted. Nadir had also hinted that this went beyond addiction. And suddenly she really wondered. _How bad was it?_

"Well?" he said. "Does it matter to you?"

She swallowed. No matter how hard she thought about it, there was no perfect answer to this question. It did matter. And yet - "I came to tell you about who I knew," she murmured, looking down. "That's all I can tell you. I knew a good person. What _you_ know about Erik doesn't change the fact that I knew a good person." She looked back up. "This has all happened so fast. I'm confused about a lot of things. But I do know…I mean, everything I told you was the truth."

"I believe you," he said. He sounded tired.

"Thank you."

"I'm sorry you were dragged into this. My son is having a rough time."

"It's okay," she replied. "I was happy to do it."

"Is there anything else you want to say to me?" he asked.

Had she forgotten anything important? She searched her memories. It seemed silly but – "He made lasagna. He can cook, too."

The Governor snorted. "Was it any good?"

"I don't know," Alice murmured sadly. "I never got to try it."

* * *

Nadir waited in his car for all his cohorts to come out. He had been sitting there for nearly forty minutes, listening to oldies and growing more nervous with each second. Finally, he saw Raoul and Daniel emerge. But not Alice or Gabby. He climbed out of his car and approached. His heart sunk when he saw their faces.

Raoul noticed him first and walked over. "I needed fresh air. I can't take it anymore."

"Is Alice in there?" Nadir asked. Raoul nodded. "For how long?"

"I'd say about twenty-five minutes."

"And how'd your meeting go?" Nadir asked Daniel.

"Fine," said Daniel, sharply. Nadir wasn't encouraged. Maybe having Daniel testify wasn't the best idea. Even though he was knowledgeable, Daniel was also arrogant, a trait that the Governor likely hadn't found endearing.

"I still say I should have gone down there," said Raoul. "Right after I got that damned call."

Daniel looked up. "What?"

"Nothing," said Nadir, giving Raoul a stern look. He didn't want Daniel to know about Raoul's Christine sighting. Daniel might want to join Raoul on a search for them.

And then two young men would wind up very, very dead.

Nadir shook his head.

Raoul rolled his eyes and continue pacing.

Finally, after another fifteen minutes, the front door opened. Gabby wheeled Alice out of the building and down the walkway. Nadir, Raoul, and Daniel turned into a herd of stampeding elephants in their eagerness to reach the two women. Alice looked up at them. The unspoken question hung in the air. _Well?_

"I said everything we discussed," Alice began. "I don't think I left anything out."

"So what was his reaction?" Raoul asked.

Alice hesitated. "He listened to me. And he was respectful. But I can tell that he doesn't like the idea of a criminal going into SCI instead of prison. I told him that rehabilitation could be an option for drug crimes. And then I learned that this isn't about drug crimes." Alice glanced at Nadir and quickly added, "But I still don't know what it's about. Anyway, after I was finished speaking, he said that he could see my perspective. He said he regretted that this has become a big mess. But he said that it was out of his hands now."

"What is that supposed to mean?" Raoul asked.

"You should ask him," said Alice. "He ended the meeting, and I got the impression he wouldn't tell me anything else."

"Oh, I will," muttered Raoul. Before Nadir could say a word, Raoul had turned around and stormed back into the building.

Alice looked at Nadir. "Is it time for the truth now?" she asked.

"Yes," said Nadir with a sigh. He wasn't looking forward to that conversation. "Let's get out of here first."

"Should we wait for Chagny?" Daniel asked. "Maybe he'll have more info."

"We'll give him fifteen minutes," said Nadir.

They were quiet as they waited. Nadir suspected their hearts and stomachs were all sinking into the ground.

They only had to stand there for another ten minutes. Raoul popped out of the glass doors and nearly walked straight past them. Nadir grabbed his shoulder. Raoul had an expression of near agony on his face. "What's going on?" Nadir asked.

It took the young man a moment to speak. "The state legislature is getting involved. They're holding an entire meeting on whether suspected criminals should be allowed into virtual reality." Raoul shook his head in clear disgust. "My dad says his hands are tied. He even admitted that he almost wishes he'd never gotten involved and created this mess. It's caused too much trouble. _Gee, ya think, Dad?_ But he said it's too late now to do anything about it. Everyone knows."

There was a long moment of silence.

Daniel slowly spoke, "So it sounds like our only option is to get this done in secret."

"How the hell are we going to do that?" asked Raoul. "It's not going to happen, and we all know it. The freak isn't coming back by himself. This has been a waste of time!" He started to walk away.

"Where are you going?" Nadir asked.

Raoul refused to answer.

"Where are you going?!" Nadir called.

Still no answer.

"You have one good arm!" Nadir yelled. "You'd better not being doing anything stupid!"

"What are you so worried about?" Daniel asked Nadir. Nadir didn't respond.

"What's going on?" asked Alice with frustration. "Why did he call Erik a freak?"

"Oh, dear," Gabby murmured.

"Well, this situation is fucked," said Daniel, grabbing his keys from his pocket and heading toward his car. "I'm going to figure something else out."

Overwhelmed, Nadir stared blankly at the mostly empty parking lot. Hopelessness descended upon him.

Suddenly, Corey popped out between two cars and walked toward them. "There you all are. Is it done?" he asked, glancing at Alice. "What happened?"

Nadir, Alice, and Gabby just stared at him.

* * *

 _I want to run._

 _I want to stay._

 _I want my home._

 _I want to fly far, far away._

 _A poem by Christine April Daae_


	20. Chapter 20

_**Bumpy roller coaster for a little while ;)**_

"Maybe we should go back to the hotel," said Corey. His voice broke an uncomfortable silence.

Alice stared up at Nadir. He looked stuck, unable to move from that spot on the sidewalk. The afternoon sunlight grew hotter.

"What's wrong?" Gabby asked him.

"I need to keep an eye on Raoul," Nadir muttered.

"Why?" Gabby asked. "What do you think he's going to do? What can he do?"

Nadir glanced at Alice. His shoulders slumped, and he said, "Raoul saw them one evening at a gas station. Recently. I'm afraid he'll head in that direction by himself."

"Oh my God," said Gabby, grasping at the collar of her blouse.

"Saw who?" Alice asked.

"Erik. And Christine." Nadir quickly continued, "Erik is not in prison. He never was. He escaped. Shortly after the authorities took him out of SCI."

"Where did he go?" Alice asked.

"No one knows yet. At least, I hope Raoul doesn't know." She saw fear in his eyes. "You know how you asked me about a girl that Erik remembered?" Alice nodded. "Well, he found her. He took her. And she just happened to be Raoul's girlfriend. That's why he's so upset."

"Took as in…?"

"Kidnapped," stated Nadir. "He assaulted Raoul and kidnapped her. I don't know much about their relationship beyond that, but I doubt he knew her. And now I'm worried that Raoul is going to confront him."

Alice swallowed. "Are you worried that they'll hurt each other?" she softly asked. Alice was still picturing her Erik. He and Raoul were around the same size. Although Raoul's arm was injured. Because of Erik, she suddenly realized.

"Heh!" Nadir released a short laugh at her question. They all looked at him. "I'm sorry," he said. "I'm stressed."

Corey gently began, "Alice. Erik isn't even close to the person we knew. He's older, in his forties. He's heavily disfigured. And he's, well – he's crazy. He's killed people. A lot of people. At least three."

"More," said Nadir. "Many, many more." They all turned to stare at him. "He was a hitman. And I met him through the criminal underworld. He helped me catch the worst of the bad guys. Not to say that Erik wasn't a bad guy. But he was…different in some ways. And so I tried to help him. Many, many times. But I have failed him. I've failed everyone." He shook his head and took a step backwards. "There's more to say, but I have to stop Raoul from getting himself killed. We'll continue this discussion later. I'm sorry. I have to go." He jogged toward his car.

Alice stared forward without seeing, sinking into the dark pit of her own thoughts.

"I'm really sorry," said Corey, kneeling beside her. "That's why I didn't want to tell you. I didn't know how to explain all that."

"Are you okay?" Gabby asked. "It is a lot. And I…"

"You knew?" Alice asked, glancing at her.

"Well. Yes. I've known Nadir a long time. He told me about Erik over the years. Nadir and I would get drinks together now and then, and I would, oh, act as Nadir's therapist regarding all things Erik." She gave a pained smile and rubbed her hands together, as though she felt guilty. "I wanted to help. Because, despite all of it, I felt terrible for Erik. He's had a horrific life, practically raised on the street by some of the most depraved members of society. I'm not justifying what he's done. " Gabby looked to the side. "But I wondered if I could help make it right."

"With SCI?" Alice asked. Gabby nodded.

"Do you wish I'd told you?" Corey asked. "Before you testified?"

"No," said Alice. "Nadir was right. It would have influenced what I said."

While Corey didn't ask aloud, she knew what his next questions were. _Would that have been a bad thing?_ _Do you regret testifying?_

It would take some time to process it all. But, at that moment, Alice mostly felt numb. And a little sad, as though she had lost someone. But not regretful. She had told the truth. Only now there were two truths. Two very different people. She didn't know the terrifying person whom they were all telling her about. So she couldn't hate him or like him or forgive him or resent him. He was a fairy tale at this point.

The stray thoughts began to trickle in -

 _At least that girl was probably alive. She had a name. What was it? Christine._

 _Oh, God, what's he doing to her?_

 _I can't think about that right now. I'll throw up._

 _Who else did he kill? Maybe Corey knows. Do I want to know yet? I don't know._

Corey must have seen the color draining from her face. "Do you want me to take you back to SCI?" he asked. "I can even wipe your memory if you -"

"No!" Alice snapped, swerving to look at him. "Don't ever do that again!"

"I'm sorry," he said. "I thought it might be better."

" _It's not."_

"What do you want to do?" Gabby asked, gently touching her shoulder.

It took Alice a moment to think about this. "I'd like to know what happens at the meeting," she finally said. "With the legislature."

"I don't know if they'll let the public in," Gabby replied.

"What meeting?" asked Corey.

Gabby quickly explained what Raoul had told them.

"I just want more clarity," said Alice. "To hear what other people have to say. Everyone here has all these motives, and it's confusing. And then – I don't know. I guess I'll go back to SCI and wait to see what happens."

"Sounds like a plan," Gabby murmured. She looked up as two men in suits passed. "Maybe we should get back to the hotel. We can talk more in private there."

They headed toward the parking lot together. Alice asked, "Could I ride with Corey?" There were questions she wanted to ask, and Alice didn't know if she trusted Gabby to give her the complete truth.

Gabby and Nadir. They weren't bad people. They seemed nice. And yet – _what had they done?_

"Of course," said Gabby. "I'll meet you back at the hotel." Gabby carefully helped Alice from the wheelchair and into Corey's smaller car. Alice settled back into the seat, reclining it slightly, trying to lessen the pain in her limbs. The shock of everything she had learned at least distracted her from it.

Corey slipped into the driver's seat. As soon as he was on the road, Alice asked him, "Who exactly did Erik…uh." She took a deep breath. "Who did he kill?"

 _Shy, awkward Erik. Who made lasagna. He had been so proud of that lasagna. And he'd brought cookies to their volleyball game. And lay by the stream with her. He had killed people. Murder. Murderer. Kidnapper._

Corey's response made it all the more real. "He went to SCI because he killed an old guy. For no reason. He went nuts and murdered someone. After Erik got out of SCI, he killed two correctional officers. He tortured one of them to death. It was…pretty gruesome." Alice shuddered. Corey shook his head. "The truth is, I don't see much good in him. At first, I was against putting him back in SCI. I thought he belonged in jail. But then I wondered if Daniel and Nadir were right. Maybe having Erik back at SCI is the best thing for everyone. Especially Raoul. And Christine. If he can't hurt anyone in there, why not?"

"Why not?" Alice dully repeated. She stared out the window. _Why not?_ _Why not take a bad person and make them into a good person?_

"Are you okay?" Corey asked.

"I just…" She curled her arms against her chest and closed her eyes. "I don't know."

* * *

What would happen if they left the cottage?

Would she would be confined to another house somewhere far away?

Or would Erik keep his word? Would she have more freedom and opportunities? Could she sing and obtain an education? Sometimes Christine dreamt of bright stage lights and applause. Or curling up on the couch with her textbooks surrounding her – as Erik left a cup of tea or hot chocolate beside her. She dreamt of a warm house filled with endless music. She dreamt of peace.

And sometimes she still thought of escape. Erik knew this area, and so she really had no chance. But someday, in another city, maybe he would let her go for a drive by herself. And she would have the perfect chance to run. Plus, Erik would be too far away to hurt Raoul.

She really needed to get Raoul out of danger. She worried about him. Her boyfriend.

And somehow she knew that their relationship would never be the same, even if she did escape. Christine could sense it. Damage had been done. She had changed forever. The realization was kind of depressing.

But now wasn't the time to dwell on that. She had to make this one decision. She thought about it while singing and reading and eating.

 _Am I really going to leave the city I've known forever?_

 _You have to. That's the only way to get what you want. Education. Music. Escape. It's the only way now._

As she was lying on the sofa, Erik sang to her one evening. She didn't recognize the song. It was foreign. Soft and soothing, and his voice was low and pleasant. She closed her eyes but didn't sleep.

When he finished, she asked, "Where'd you learn that?"

A long pause. "A Polish immigrant."

She opened her eyes. "Is there an interesting story behind that answer?"

"Yes," said Erik, and his eyes looked disturbed. "But it isn't happy. And I don't wish to tell it."

She sighed and pressed her cheek against the cool couch cushion.

"Do you want me to continue?" Erik asked. "Another song for my Christine?"

"Yes, please." Before he could begin again, she said, "Wait. Erik?"

"Yes, my dear?"

"I…" Her voice quivered. "I've made a decision."

"About what?"

"We can go. I don't know if I'm ready to go to a different country. But we can leave the city."

"Oh!" Erik clasped his bony hands and knelt at her feet. She wished he would stopping doing that and just sit beside her. "Yes, we will do exactly that. And then we will have fewer worries of the world discovering us."

"Yeah. Maybe we can go out more. In public." She eyed him.

"Of course," he replied. "We will do that often. We will go for walks in the evening. Like a normal man and w-woman. We will have a larger house. And perhaps a garden. And a dog, if you wish."

"And I can go to school?"

"Yes, my dear. We will find a way. Of course you will." He didn't sound deceptive. He sounded very happy.

Her heart was beating quickly in her chest, but she didn't regret her decision. She felt almost hopeful.

After that evening, Erik did trust her more. They went on drives into the suburbs, and he didn't keep a constant eye on her.

And Erik let her take short walks around the cottage, sometimes in his company and sometimes alone. She had no plans to break his trust by that point. There was far too much to lose. Too much to gain.

In retrospect, maybe she wasn't being honest with herself. She was playing _his_ game without an end plan. She was still scared. Uncertain. Floating along in a stream that probably wouldn't lead to anything good – but didn't seem to be heading toward anything that bad.

The bottom line was that - she didn't know what she wanted. For most twenty-one-year-olds, that was normal. She was at the perfect age to mess up and make bad decisions and to figure out life.

But she was dealing with Erik.

So her indecisiveness was deadly.

It wasn't fair. Nothing that had happened to her was fair.

It just _was._

* * *

"Answer the goddamned phone," Nadir muttered. "Come on. Answer!"

He had been trying to call Raoul for over two hours. He had driven around the city, searching for Raoul's BMW. Raoul had to be purposefully ignoring his phone calls. That wasn't a good sign.

Nadir left his third message. "Look. I know you're upset. I'm sorry. But that's no reason to go on a suicidal mission. Please call me. Let me know you're not doing anything stupid. If you get yourself killed, it's my head on the line. Your father will blame me. Call me back. Don't make an old man beg."

Nadir temporarily gave up and went home. Hell, maybe Raoul wasn't even doing anything dangerous. Maybe he was sulking at a bar.

Nadir talked to Gabby that evening. "I don't know what to do at this point. When do I call the Governor?"

"Do you think Raoul even knows where they are?"

"I doubt it," Nadir replied. "But he could run into them by coincidence. If he looks long enough."

"Maybe."

"How's everything with you? How's Alice?" Nadir had nearly forgotten all about that situation.

Gabby hesitated. "She's okay. I think she's disturbed. And tired. But she's holding up."

"Any idea what Daniel is up to?" There were far too many people to think about right now. Herding cats.

"I haven't heard from him," Gabby replied. "But I wouldn't worry. What can he do?"

Nadir grunted. "He's like a snake slithering through the vents. You can't see him. He doesn't do much. But watch out."

"What do you want me to do about him?" asked Gabby.

"Nothing. Let's not make this more complicated. Right now, the priority is finding Raoul and making sure he's safe. After that, we'll figure the rest out." Nadir heard some chatter in the background. "It sounds like you're all having fun."

"I wouldn't call it fun. More like food therapy. Corey and I chipped in for room service. Alice really shouldn't drink alcohol in her condition, so dessert seemed like a good substitute. There's an ice cream sundae with my name on it."

"Well, I'll let you get to it," said Nadir, cracking a smile.

"You're welcome to come," said Gabby.

"Probably not tonight. I'll talk to you soon."

He hung up, still feeling disturbed. His stomach was churning, and he felt a chill in his blood.

Finally, around ten, Nadir's phone rang. He answered so quickly that he nearly pushed the wrong button and hung up. "Hello?"

"Hey. I saw you called. Like twenty times."

Nadir's heart fluttered with relief. "Why the hell didn't you answer?" he asked.

"I was busy," said Raoul. He kept his voice very quiet. He sounded like he was outside. Wind swept against the receiver.

"Where are you?" Nadir asked. No answer. "Where are you?" he repeated with less patience.

"Hiking around," said Raoul. "Getting some fresh air and clearing my head."

"At night? No, you're not. You're looking for them." No response. "Come back. We'll talk. We'll come up with another plan."

"Another stupid plan that won't work?" Raoul asked. "That takes weeks to implement? No thanks."

"A good plan that won't take long at all." Nadir tried to think of something off the top of his head. He couldn't.

"Yeah, right."

Nadir closed his eyes. "Are you armed?" No answer. "Are you armed?"

"I've got a handgun."

Nadir made a noise of frustration. "Get back here now!"

"No."

"I'll tell your father!"

"Go ahead. Maybe he'll take action for once."

"You're being ridiculous!"

"I'm fine. Leave me alone." Raoul hung up.

"Argh!" Nadir exclaimed. Oh, to be that young and dumb again.

Nadir immediately headed back out. Past streetlights that cast long shadows. And cars of teenagers who were up to no good. A homeless man passed out on a bench.

In their previous conversation, Raoul had given him an idea of the general direction where he had spotted Christine. A gas station between the city and a wooded area. Just outside the suburbs. Surrounded by publics parks and picnic areas. Nadir headed that way. He didn't call the authorities yet, not wanting to escalate the situation. If the Governor thought his son was in danger, he might send in the National Guard.

Nadir finally stopped at a park and climbed out of his car. He called Raoul and left a message. "I'm nearby. At least let me look with you. Let me help."

Rubber swings swayed in the breeze. A slide. A wooden picnic table. And pine trees that probably stretched out for miles. Nadir didn't go that far into them. He walked a half mile through the woods and then turned back, seeing nothing of interest. He went back to his car and dozed, keeping an eye out for any cops who might wonder what he was up to. No one came by. At one in the morning, Nadir called Raoul. "I have been up half the night. What are you doing? Are you wandering in the woods, half-asleep, with your arm in a cast? With your gun? Are you done yet?"

If he didn't hear from Raoul by noon, Nadir decided to contact the Governor. He was running out of options. Maybe someone could trace Raoul's phone. He finally went home and fell asleep on his couch.

At 6 AM, Nadir was awoken by another call. "Hello?"

"Hey," whispered Raoul.

"Where the hell are you?" Nadir rubbed his eyes and sat up. "I am seconds away from calling your father."

"I was up all night looking. And I found something." He continued to whisper. Nadir struggled to hear. "I can see this little house. It's out in the woods. There's a car nearby. I think it's occupied. But I haven't seen anyone come out yet."

"It's probably nothing," said Nadir. "You're probably trespassing."

"I want to keep an eye on it," said Raoul. "Just in case. There's something…weird about it. I can't explain."

"Where are you?"

"I don't want you to send the cops until I know for sure."

"I won't," said Nadir. "I'll come. Just me. I promise."

A pause. "All right." Raoul tried to give him directions but wasn't very successful.

"I'll figure it out. Wait there," stressed Nadir. "Don't do anything. I mean it. Stay put."

"I will."

Nadir ran back to his car and sped in that direction. Around winding corners where he was supposed to slow down to fifteen miles per hour. He didn't slow down at all. Between groves of pine trees. Over little hills. The spot was harder to find than he thought it would be.

Twenty minutes passed.

Nadir finally pulled over and called Raoul again, needing clearer directions.

Raoul didn't answer.

Nadir rolled his eyes and thought the young man was just being difficult.

The truth was much worse.

* * *

 _He_ told her that they would leave in three weeks.

He would show her so many new places that she would never want to come back. The world had so many possibilities. And, with her at his side, he could finally enjoy them. He could live. He would make her forget the circumstances. She would be happy. In her new life.

He promised that he would collect the items that were dear to her. Photographs and baubles from her parents. She could have new clothes, if she liked. She could have whatever she wanted.

"Maybe we can see shows," she softly suggested. "Like Broadway. Or the opera?"

"Of course," he told her, imagining them sitting beside each other in a balcony, the lighting dark and the seats plush. Her at his side, inches away from him, so that the warmth left her body and brushed against his ice cold flesh.

They would be happy.

They would have been happy.

If not for…

He never should have let her go outside that morning. He should have told her to wait until the evening, when he could accompany her. And quickly be rid of any _threats._

But he had trusted her. He had wanted her to be happy. And he was so delighted with plans of the future that he did not pay enough attention.

She put her hair into a pony tail and slipped on sunglasses. "I'll be back," she told him with a small smile. She left. The door softly clicked shut behind her.

Ten minutes ticked by.

Twenty minutes.

Thirty-two minutes.

She had not returned. Perhaps she was simply enjoying herself.

He went outside to check on her, expecting her to be lying on the grass in the shadow of a nearby tree. It was her favorite spot.

He did not see her. His heartbeat quickened.

He would have to go into the daylight to find her, which he normally avoided. It made him appear extra hideous.

But he did so. To find her, he went into the sunshine. He walked down a hill and toward the more wooded area. A breeze swept through the holes of his mask and brushed against his face.

And then he heard the voices.

One was hers. The other was…

His heart constricted with rage. He approached, hands clenching.

He caught bits of their conversation—

"…from SCI…killed at least…"

"…you sure? He's never…"

"Yes. You have to…could hurt…"

Their words became clearer.

"It was really grisly. Christine, you've got to get out of here before he hurts you, too. Or worse!"

"I can't! He'll follow us! He'll hurt you!"

 _He_ saw red dots. They exploded in front of him like misshapen balloons.

"You have to come with me!"

"I don't think we'll make it! He could come out at any time!"

"We can! My car is nearby. We'll drive for a couple hours, and I'll look for a flight. We'll leave. And we won't come back until that freak is dead, in jail, or lobotomized – whatever the hell they did to him before."

And then she sealed it. She drove the knife into _his_ heart and twisted it. With a reluctant moan, she started to leave with the boy. She allowed Chagny to take her hand, and the idiot pulled her along, through the trees.

 _He_ followed. Like a wraith through the woods.

Chagny broke into a jog. And so did she, by necessity.

Of course, _he_ was faster. And _he_ knew what shortcuts to take to come out ahead of them. To appear right in front of them

 _He_ hated the noise that Christine when she saw him. A little squeal of fear. She stepped backwards, panting. "Oh, God," she whispered.

Chagny started, glared, and growled, "Get the fuck away from us."

How precious. The boy had a gun, and he was slowly raising it.

Christine gasped. "Don't! Raoul, don't! Just go. Leave! I'll deal with this. Go!"

"No, no, my love," _he_ told her. "Let us give him once chance." _He_ spread his arms and stood there. "I will give you one shot, boy. I won't even make difficult for you. Easy target practice."

Chagny's good arm was shaking. The boy had very obviously never killed anyone before. Pathetic.

"Raoul, stop. Stop! Everybody stop!" Christine hollered. She ran her hands over her tear-stained face.

Chagny lowered the gun slightly. "Let us go! Leave us alone!"

"So long as I am alive, I will not," _he_ coolly replied. "So long as I am alive, she is mine. I warned you what would happen if you tried to see her again, didn't I? Now are you going to take your shot?" Chagny hesitated a second too long. "No? Time is up!"

 _He_ advanced on them. Chagny fired one stray and clumsy shot. Unsurprisingly, he missed. Christine screamed and clutched her head as the _boom_ echoed throughout the forest.

 _He_ laughed but felt no joy. "Tell me Chagny. Are you as good a lover as you are a marksman?" The boy fumbled with the gun again. _He_ lurched forward and soon had Chagny's warm neck in his cold hands. Chagny stared up at him with bulging eyes, choking and gasping and sputtering. Christine yelled and grabbed _his_ arm and beat on _his_ back with her fists. It did not hurt. It was just a gentle pressure, and _he_ liked that she was touching him. He liked it very, very much – no matter the circumstances.

But he did not like her yelling at him. Her words were nearly indiscernible. He heard them through a growing fog of rage.

 _Erik's mind is breaking, Darling. Please stop screaming. Please stop. Erik cannot think._

He released the boy. Chagny slumped to the ground, his eyes closing and his skin nearly blue. He grabbed the boy by the arms and dragged him back toward the cottage, knowing she would follow.

"What are you doing with him?" she cried. "Let him go! Stop!"

He did not stop.

Once inside, he threw the boy into the middle of the living room. Perhaps Chagny would make a nice rug.

"What are you doing?!" she cried.

He faced her, towering over her. "The idiot is still alive. I cannot have him telling everywhere we are, Darling. That would not do at all, would it? They can find him after we leave. Because we are still leaving, my dear. We will go somewhere wonderful, and you will forget all about him. Yes?"

"I…" She stared up at him wide, terrified eyes. "Is-Is it true?" she whispered. "Did you kill people? Are you the SCI patient?"

He knew that there was no lying to her. Chagny had ruined everything.

"It is true," he said. "Yet it changes nothing."

"Oh, God." She stepped backward and hit the wall.

He knelt in front of her and clasped his hands together. He had to make her understand. "I would never harm a hair on your head. I love you. I can be good with you. For you. Erik can be good for you!"

Another sob escaped her trembling lips. "Oh, God," she repeated. "You're…What have you done?"

"Erik will be good for you!" he insisted.

Her gaze fell back to Chagny. "Let him go! Let him go, Erik!" She began to cry again. "What have you done?"

"Erik will be good!"

"You've killed people!"

His mind snapped. There was no coming back from this. _"He made you hate me!"_ he roared at her. He stood to his full height and walked toward the unconscious boy. "I will kill him! I will rip off his head! When he has no head, will you love me?! Will you?! I hate him!"

"No! Please! You can't! Stop!"

"I hate him! I hate him!"he raged.

" _I hate you!"_ she screamed back, shaking her head back and forth. Tears flowed freely from her eyes. "You've ruined my life, and I hate you! Stop this!"

And there it was.

There it was.

 _I hate you._

His shoulders slumped for a moment. Just a moment.

"Erik," she whispered.

He ignored her. He turned away. As the pain froze over and turned into something hard, dark, and cold.

Deaf to her cries, he soon injected Chagny with the sedative, ensuring the boy remained unconscious. He ordered her to go to her room. _Now._ Or he would put her to sleep, too. She begged for compassion.

He had none to give. He felt nothing now. "Go to your room. Or I will break one of his arms."

She finally obeyed, slamming the door behind her.

He stood there in the silence.

A black pit oozed open in his mind. A wound.

The realization that there would be no happy ending.

Not for Erik.

And not for anyone else.

 _He_ would see to that.


	21. Chapter 21

I don't know if this chapter is enjoyable, but I hope it's gripping. Lots of story left to go, though.

 **Read and Review!**

It was funny how quickly everything could change.

Not funny in a good way. No, not funny at all.

It was absolutely horrifying.

She had heard Raoul's footsteps first. They were so soft that she first thought the sound came from rustling leaves. Then, she had wondered if a deer was approaching. She had seen a few during her time at the cottage. She was so fond of them that Erik had once asked her if she would like to have one as a pet. She had replied, "I don't think it's right to take her freedom away."

That horrible day, Christine had walked toward the forest to see the approaching deer.

She had seen her boyfriend instead. She had stood there in shock for several moments as they gaped at each other. Raoul had raced toward her and hugged her, picking her up into air and squeezing her tightly against him. Overwhelmed, she had started crying, asking him what he was doing there, telling him he needed to leave. He had begged her to come with him.

At first, Christine had refused to go. It was too dangerous. She had wanted to handle this on her terms.

But then Raoul had told her the truth about Erik. It had clicked in her head, and she wondered why she hadn't seen it before. Erik was the escaped SCI patient, the one who had murdered those two correctional officers. She vaguely recalled the news reports. At best, he was a very unstable man. Christine had suddenly wondered if she were in danger simply by being around him.

And yet – she hadn't wanted to abandon Erik like that. He would be so upset, betrayed…hurt…heartbroken. She was terrified and conflicted, on the edge of vomiting.

She was stuck.

When Raoul had taken her hand, Christine had stupidly let him. She had let him make the choice. She had run with him.

And everything had exploded in her face.

Erik locked her inside the bedroom. She didn't even know until she tried to go back out and check on Raoul, to again beg Erik for mercy. Christine twisted the doorknob. It barely budged. She pounded her fists against the door. "Let me out! Erik, what are you doing? You'd better not be hurting him! Let me out!" There was no response.

Christine paced and wept, trying to think of what to do next as all her thoughts came apart. She had to get Raoul out of here. What happened next didn't matter. What happened to her didn't matter.

Again and again, she cried, "Erik! Let me out! Talk to me! Please talk to me!"

Her door opened once, so quickly that she barely comprehended it. A bony hand threw a sandwich wrapped in plastic onto the dresser. Erik slammed the door again.

She jumped off her bed and threw herself against the locked door. "Let me out!" she screamed. "Please let me out!"

But he wouldn't. Only a couple of hours probably passed, but it felt like an eternity.

Christine made another mistake out of desperation. She was terrified of the fact that Erik was alone with Raoul. She wanted out of that room by any means necessary.

"Erik!" she yelled at the top of her voice. "If you don't let me out, I'll kill myself! I will!" Her voice grew hoarse. "I'll…I'll hang myself with the sheet. Or smash my head into the wall!" She pounded her fist against the plaster for extra effect. "I'll do it! I swear to God!"

Christine didn't intend to do either. Until that horrible day, she hadn't even been close to that miserable. Afraid and uncertain, yes. Confused, yes. But not suicidal. She only wanted to be dramatic enough to gain his attention - kind of like when she was four and threw a tantrum about not receiving Ballerina Barbie for her birthday. She had held her breath until her face turned blue. Her poor father had shaken his head, sighed, and then probably spent the last of his paycheck at _Toys "R" Us._

It didn't work out so well for her this time.

The door flew open. Erik stood there, slightly bent forward with his hands clenched into fists. His eyes were enraged. "So," he said in an eerily quiet voice. "You would rather die than be with me. Is that correct? Not only do you hate me. You would rather kill yourself than suffer the fate of my presence."

She quickly shook her head. "No! I just want you to talk to me. To listen to me! To let him go. And then we can-"

"No, no, no. You have made yourself perfectly clear, _Darling._ " He said the last word with such disdain that she wondered if he were reachable. "There is no _We._ There never was, was there?"

He approached. She stepped backwards. "Erik," she whispered. "I just want…"

"What do you want?" he rasped. "No, don't tell me. I know what you want. A perfect little life with your perfect boy. Waking up to his perfect face every morning in the sunlit suburbs. Two, perhaps three beautiful children. A white fence surrounding your home, keeping out the monsters and the undesirables. A dog. A purebred, of course. Saturdays at the country club. Sundays at church! Picnics at-"

"You don't know what I want!" she snapped, her eyes filling with tears of fury. His condescending tone was maddening. "And what's worse - you don't even care about what I want. You only care about yourself!"

"Well, I have had to care about myself. No one else will, will they?"

"Someone must have." Her voice softened. "They cared enough to put you into SCI, to help you."

He laughed. "They were not trying to help," Erik said, a sneer in his voice. "They were trying to be rid of me. And I daresay they nearly succeeded. If not for the charming government bureaucracy. If not for the Governor." He glared behind the mask. "Did you know that the state legislature is holding an entire meeting about me? Isn't that amusing? A special meeting on whether I deserve any sort of peace. But do you know what, my love?"

"What?"

"I am done with this world, virtual or otherwise. I don't give a fuck what they decide!"

She flinched at the profanity. Not because it offended her. She had heard much worse, living in the city. Her father hadn't had the cleanest mouth. She flinched because it signified a terrifying change in their relationship. Erik no longer felt the need to be careful with her, to shield her from himself.

And then the first sentence sunk in. _I am done…_ The finality of it was disturbing.

She felt a pain in her heart, a loss. What to say? What to do? "Erik, can't we please-"

He didn't even let her finish. "I told you. There is no We. _We_ aren't doing anything. No need to kill yourself. You will be free soon enough. Free of the monster forever. But I am getting in a bit of fun before the game ends."

"What do you mean?" She doubted that any game of Erik's was going to be fun.

"It is all up to you, Princess. Will it be a little tragedy, like _Romeo and Juliet_? Or will it be an exciting spectacle? A national event broadcasted on CNN. I can hardly wait for your decision."

"What are you talking about?" Her voice trembled with fear. She was too afraid to approach him, to touch him. Or to try and shake some sense into him. Erik was out of his mind. "What are you going to do?"

Erik tilted his head.

A second of silence passed. The whole cottage was deathly quiet.

He flew toward her, a giant black cloud of doom. She had no time to react.

Christine screamed as he grabbed her arm. Something sharp pinched her skin. He was putting her to sleep.

"Say goodbye to this room," he said, his voice soft and sad. He stroked her hair as she faded. "I am afraid that your next accommodations will not be nearly as pleasant." He sighed sadly. "How I will miss this place. The best days of my life were spent here. And I thought that there might be a chance…Ah. What a foolish idiot I was. I won't make that mistake again. It will all be over soon."

"Erik," she murmured. And slept.

* * *

Nadir tried calling Raoul several more times. Nothing. As the sun rose, orange on the horizon, he drove around and around. Until the trees and paths blended together, until he was dizzy and fairly certain that he was going in circles. His stomach still felt unsettled.

He tried one last time and left a final message. "Look. I don't know what you're doing, but I can't find you. I'm going home before my car runs out of gas. Please come back. Let's form a plan. If I don't hear from you in an hour, I'm getting your father involved. No kidding this time."

He headed back to the city, stopped at a gas station, and then a grabbed a bacon breakfast burrito. Right after he had climbed into his car, his stomach full and his fingers greasy, Nadir's phone rang. "Finally," he muttered to himself as he answered. "Hello?" Before Raoul could respond, Nadir continued, "Where the hell are you?"

"Khan, Khan, Khan." Nadir froze. His mouth dropped open. "Chagny beat you here. Really? Oh, dear. Your detective skills are languishing in your old age."

It took Nadir a moment to find his voice. "Erik. Oh, dear God. Erik! Do you…Is Raoul with you?"

"He is sleeping."

"Is he alive?"

"For now."

That didn't sound good. "What do you plan on doing with him?"

"I am not quite sure yet. It all really depends on her. The uncertainty makes it all the more fun. A little thrill before my time here is finished."

"What are you-? Ugh, I don't even want to know. Let them go! I won't tell anyone you're here if you let them go. I'm doing my best to help you, Erik."

"Help me?" Erik chuckled. "Haven't you helped enough?"

"I'm sorry about what happened. I never meant for them to find you. I've been trying my hardest to get you back to SCI."

"SCI? That is a dead dream."

"Don't you want to go back there?" Nadir asked. He clung to that hope, the idea that they could somehow put Erik back into that world. The idea that Erik wanted to return to that world. "Weren't you happy?"

"I was nonexistent, old friend. Which might be interpreted as happy. Or dead. Same difference. It does not really matter now."

"Please don't hurt them," Nadir pled. "Please let them go. And I'll help you. In any way that I can." Nadir swallowed. "But if you harm them, I'll have no choice but to end this in the worst way possible."

"Silly Khan," said Erik with a smile in his voice. "I am going to end this myself. And then you won't have to worry any longer."

Nadir paused. "Are you referring to suicide?" No response. "Erik, I hope you won't."

"No need to lie."

"I mean it. But, if you do, please leave Raoul and Christine unharmed. I'm begging you. Hell, kill me before you harm them. Take your wrath out on me. Maybe I deserve it. Not two innocent young people." Nadir meant it. He felt responsible for those kids.

"No one likes a martyr." Erik hesitated. "I will leave her unharmed. Of course I will. And you, Khan, you are an everlasting annoyance. A better punishment is for you to live with yourself, I think."

Nadir snorted even as his hands shook with fear. "What about the boy, Erik? He hasn't done anything wrong. He just loves her."

"His fate will depend on her. But I do loathe him, you know? He has taken everything. Everything that the government did not take, Chagny has stolen. Who dies? Who lives? Pick your color and spin the wheel. You will come up with red either way."

"Erik-"

"Goodbye, Nadir. Perhaps this is the last time we will speak. For your sake, I hope so."

Nadir increased the volume of his voice. "Please, Erik! Don't-"

"If they ask about me - the media, I mean - tell them I was a monster. Don't sugarcoat me. That would be insulting to my memory. Tell them that I was something from their nightmares."

"Erik!"

There was a soft click and then silence. Erik had hung up.

"Damn it!" Nadir shouted, smashing his phone against the steering wheel.

After taking a second to compose himself, Nadir did what anyone would do. He called the police. He called the Governor's office. He told them that Raoul was in grave danger.

Within an hour, the authorities had swarmed the area where they expected Erik to be. The police set up roadblocks. A helicopter flew over the miles of forest. The story was all over the news. Deranged SCI patient kidnaps Governor's son. Call the police if you see any sign of them _. DO NOT ATTEMPT TO CONFRONT HIM YOURSELF._

Finally, Nadir was informed that the police had discovered the cottage in the forest. Raoul's car was parked nearby.

The police broke inside, but the cottage was empty.

They were gone.

* * *

Erik was right.

About the accommodations.

Christine opened her eyes, still groggy from the drug. Her body was warm, but her face was cold. She was lying on a cot, a heavy quilt covering her. She slowly sat up and looked around. Where was she? Some abandoned building? An old warehouse? The room was about the size of a garage. The walls were made of grey concrete. There were a couple of cardboard boxes stacked against the walls. A single dusty lightbulb hung over her. There were no windows.

A soft sob of fear escaped her lips. Now what?

Christine slowly stood. She was only wearing socks and could feel the frigid floor against the soles of her feet. She folded her arms against her chest and walked to one of two white doors. With a shaking hand, she tried to twist the metal knob. She wasn't surprised to find it locked. "Hello?" she called. "Erik! Are you out there? Is anyone there? Hello?"

No one came. She put her ear against the door and could only hear a soft mechanical hum. Christine walked to the other door and was able to open that one. It revealed a bare bathroom that had no bathtub or shower. Just a sink and a toilet. There were no rugs or decorations. At least it was clean.

Christine went back to the bed and wrapped herself in the blanket. She didn't have the energy to beat against the door and scream again. She huddled there for at least an hour, trapped with her thoughts. Erik finally entered. She dully stared at him and didn't try to stand. He studied her for a moment and then asked, "Are you cold? I barely notice the temperature. But I will warm it up in here. And you will only be here for several days."

She didn't even know where to begin. "Why are we here?"

"The cottage was no longer safe. So we could not stay there. As to why we are here, you will see soon."

She shook her head in frustration. "Where will we go after here?"

"For the last time, _we_ will not go anywhere. You will leave here unscathed. Erik will be gone forever."

"What do you mean you'll be gone? And what about Raoul?"

"I hardly think you care about the answer to your first question. For now, the little nitwit is perfectly fine. What happens to him next will depend on you."

"What do you mean?"

"Now is not the time. But timing is everything!"

"You're not making any sense!"

"I suppose not. In any case, all we can do is wait. Do you need anything to make yourself comfortable?"

She looked at her dismal surroundings. "Yeah. Everything! Why are we here?"

"You will see soon."

Erik turned around and opened the door. She loudly protested as he left and then glared at him as he came back in with more blankets. Then a stack of books and a little battery powered lamp. A portable television. Clothing from the cottage. A toothbrush and toothpaste. Sandwiches and chips and sodas. Cookies. _What was this? A picnic in prison?_

As Erik came and went, she asked the same things over and over. _Why were they here? Was Raoul really okay? What was going to happen next?_

He refused to answer, humming a song she at first didn't recognize. Then Christine realized that it was a weird, choppy, extra slow version of _Unchained Melody._ He made the romantic song sound like something from a horror movie.

"When does this end?" she finally asked. "Can you at least tell me how long this is going to go on?" She needed a light at the end of the tunnel. If she could count down the minutes, maybe she could keep her sanity.

"Four days," Erik replied. "Give or take."

 _5,760 minutes. Give or take._

* * *

"Are you sure that you still want to go?" Corey asked. He took a seat on the foot of the bed. They could both hear Gabby's voice from outside the door. She was talking to Nadir.

Alice slowly looked at him. The television was on and turned to the news. She was allowed to watch it now. Along with everything else, she had seen a blurred picture of Erik's real face that someone had taken with a cellphone. He was extremely disfigured, nearly skeletal, and she guessed that the sight would be even more shocking in real life.

Still, by far, the most horrifying thing about the real Erik were his actions. Now Raoul was gone, too.

"Yes," she said. "I still want to go."

Corey sighed. "I doubt it will matter. Everyone wants to see him dead or punished."

Alice stared at him. A dull pain encased her heart and stomach, and she knew it didn't come from her illness. It looked like Corey was waiting for her to agree with him. She didn't. All she said was, "I hope everyone is okay."

He glanced down and nodded.

Gabby came in, holding her phone at her side. Her eyes had dark circles around them. "Still no sign of anyone," she said. "The police have no idea where to look. They found Raoul's car. And a little house where it looks like Erik and Christine had been living. But everyone is gone."

"Crap," said Corey.

"But the legislature is still holding the meeting?" Alice asked.

"Yes," said Gabby. "Although I doubt there's any chance of a good outcome for Erik. Anyway, the meeting will be open to some members of the public, and Nadir is going to make sure there will be space for us. We'll be discreet about entering, so no one should bother us."

"Is Nadir coming?" Alice asked.

"I don't know yet," said Gabby. "He's trying to help the police. He knows Erik better than anyone…" An uncomfortable silence settled over the room. They were all basically sitting around and waiting for Erik to be killed.

Gabby swallowed and stepped backward. "Hey, why don't I get us some Chinese food? There's a place down the street I've been wanting to try."

"That sounds good," said Corey, mustering a happy voice.

"Great," said Gabby. She grabbed her purse and keys. "I'll be back soon."

Alice guessed that Gabby wanted some privacy so that she could have a good cry.

"Wanna see what else is on television?" Corey asked after Gabby was gone. "I'm getting sick of the news."

"Sure," said Alice. She felt wet warmth gathering in her eyes before she could stop it. "Actually, could I have a little alone time? Just twenty minutes. Please?"

"Uh. Sure," said Corey, setting the remote on the nightstand. "I'll be in the lobby."

"Thanks."

Sometimes comfort was nice.

And sometimes it felt better to mourn openly in the silence.

* * *

Christine was able to see the local news on the little television. Erik wasn't shielding her from it any longer. A huge manhunt was underway for the three of them. The police were looking through the forest and around the cottage. Christine knew that she had to be far away from their little home now. Was she back in the city? She thought that was possible, as she occasionally heard distant car horns. _But why were they back here?_

Her time at the cottage now seemed like a distant, surreal dream. Had she and Erik really been about to go off together and explore the world? Had she really possessed actual hope? Had she felt hints of happiness? Had she seen genuine good in him? How had it all disappeared? She couldn't even tell what was real any longer.

She didn't hide her tears when he came inside with more turkey sandwiches. She didn't look him in the eye. She lay on the bed, motionless and quiet.

"It won't be that much longer," he informed her. "You will be free of me. You will have your life back."

"Why not let me go now?" she asked, still not looking at him. She answered her own question. "Because you're going to do something horrible first, aren't you?"

"Someone has to suffer," he agreed. "Why should I die miserable while everyone else receives their happy ending? Why should all those who have wronged me escape punishment? That is not fair. That is not fair at all!"

He almost sounded like a five-year-old when he said the last sentence. As though everyone else had gotten a cookie except for him.

She slowly sat up, brushing her tangled hair from her tear soaked face. "What are you talking about? Why can't we just leave this place? And-"

"No more games, Christine," he said, putting up a gloved hand. "I am so tired of games. You tried to flee with that boy. And then you declared that you hate me. And, best of all, you threatened suicide. You absolutely despise me. So no more pretty lies from you."

Her face crumpled. "I…I don't even know what to say. What do you want? What do you want from me?!"

"I want out of this world. But I want to go out in style. And you will help me. You don't have to say anything." He tilted his head. "Well, perhaps you will have to say one thing. You will have to make your final choice."

"What choice? What are you talking about?"

"You will see," he replied. "You will see very soon."

She let out a frustrated cry as Erik left her alone again.

Christine tried to count down the minutes. At some point, she lost track of them. She tried to distract herself. With the books and the television. It was nearly impossible. Sometimes she dozed, but sleeping was hard, too. It was nearly as bad as when she had first been kidnapped – only better in that she didn't think she was going to be killed.

But the chilling question was – _Who was going to be killed?_

* * *

Her pain and exhaustion worsened with each passing day. Alice finally told Corey that, "After the meeting, I want to go back to SCI as soon as possible."

"Either tomorrow or the day after," he reassured her. "I'll see when I can get you in."

"And I want you or Gabby to put me back," Alice added. "Not Daniel."

"No worries there." Corey rolled his eyes. "I don't even know where that asshole went."

Gabby helped her get ready to go. Alice put on the same bland outfit that she had worn to see the Governor. The skirt and the blouse. At least she wouldn't stand out. It didn't sound like Nadir would be with them. "I think he's about to go crazy," said Gabby. "He feels so responsible for all this."

"He was just trying to help," said Alice, adjusting her hair in the mirror. The strands were so dry and stringy here.

"We are all," said Corey with a touch of anger. "Look at what everyone's done to try to help Erik. Look at how much everyone is suffering. Maybe he can't be helped."

"But he was okay in SCI," Alice protested. "We saw him all the time, and he was fine. Nearly normal."

"For how long would that have lasted?" Corey asked.

"Maybe we'll never know," Alice replied. "But I wish they had left him alone. None of this would have happened. Erik and I would have eaten that damned lasagna and finished watching _Jurassic Park_. And everything would have been fine."

Gabby squeezed her shoulder. "I wish that, too," she said. "I wish it every day."

As they left to go to the meeting, Alice realized that she had unintentionally endorsed everything that Nadir, Gabby, and Daniel had done. Her words had come from the heart. Maybe there wasn't a way to use reason or logic when it came to this issue.

Everyone had been happy before Erik was taken out of SCI. Alice had been happier. Gabby, Nadir, Corey, Raoul, Christine, and Erik had all been happier before this had happened.

And that had to count for something, didn't it?

Feelings had to count for something.

Alice closed her eyes and inhaled. At least she knew what she wanted now.

Not that it would matter to the state legislature.

* * *

Erik continued to come in and ask if she needed anything. He came in so often that Christine stopped answering him. She looked away. But he never stopped asking.

Then finally– right before she was about to completely lose her mind - Erik proclaimed, with his hands clasped, "Today is the day!"

She lifted her head. "What?"

"Today you obtain your freedom," said Erik. "You can be free, my love. No more monster. No more freak."

She felt no joy. "What's going to happen?"

It was then that she noticed that his suit looked a little strange. Bulky, almost. Like something was under his black jacket. Before she could ask, Erik opened the door. He gestured for her to come out. Her heart beat wildly. She shivered and slowly followed him, grotesque curiosity tickling the back of her brain.

They walked down a dim, grey corridor. Erik opened another door, and she followed him inside. They were in a much larger room with more boxes and metallic machines that had rusted gears and levers. And windows! She blinked in the brighter light. Yes, they were definitely in the city, probably one of the abandoned factory buildings. It was daytime, and she could see multiple grey and brown structures.

She realized that she was many stories off the ground, too. She couldn't see the street. Just the buildings and the bright blue sky.

"Look closer," he said. His voice was quiet yet excited. "Go to the window." She slowly did so, feeling as though she were walking to her doom. "What do you see?"

She expected to see something horrible. She didn't. "Buildings," she murmured.

"What sort of buildings?"

"Just buildings. Wh - Oh. They're government buildings. This is where all the government complexes are." She remembered having to go into a few of them when sorting out the paperwork for her parents' deaths.

"Precisely. Government. The bane of everyone's existence."

"I don't understand," she said, looking over her shoulder at him.

"I told you that that they are holding a meeting. All about Erik. It is today. In that large building, with the statue of the bear in front of it. Do you see?"

She looked down again. "Yes. But I still don't understand. Why are we here?"

Erik stood up straighter. He tucked his hands behind his back and approached. He came to stand beside her and stared out the window, too. He said, softly, "I have a choice for you, Darling. You will wonder why I am asking you to make it. And here is why." A pause. His voice was so quiet that she could barely hear him. Yet his tone sent shivers up and down her spine. "You think you hate me now? Hate me? You have no idea what real hate is. But I do. Hatred flows through my veins. I have been raised on it. Nurtured by it. I am a creature of hate." Another eerie pause. The volume of his voice increased slightly. He turned to look down at her. She stared up at him with wide eyes. "And now I want you to know true hatred, too. By the end of this, I want you to absolutely despise me. And then, even after my death, I will be with you forever. You will never be rid of me. If I cannot have your love, then I want your deepest hatred. The sort of hatred that scars!"

She had no reply for him. She could only stare in open-mouthed horror, waiting for this choice.

Starting at the top, Erik slowly unbuttoned his jacket, revealing a strange black vest with red wires and several metal cylindrical objects attached to it. It took her only a few seconds to identify what he was wearing. Christine gasped and leapt backwards, nearly crashing into the wall.

Erik laughed and shook his head. "No, my dear. I will not detonate it in here. I will use it in there." He pointed to the building. "Amongst the useless government bureaucrats, as they try to determine my fate. There are other devices situated around the building, and they are all ready to go. I will show this city fear. They will regret removing me from SCI! They will regret stealing my peace!"

"You can't," she choked out, a hand over her mouth. Her heart pounded in her ears. "You can't! All those people! You can't kill dozens of people!"

"I rather like the idea. It will be the biggest spectacle since Nicholas Vaughan had his day."

"Don't do this! You are not Nicholas Vaughan!"

"No? Too dramatic? Well, then here is your other choice. I kill the boy. I will not even do it in front of you. And then I will go away quietly and kill myself. Only a single death for you to mourn. No spectacle. No screams. No drama." Erik gestured toward the window. "On the other hand, if you allow me have to my fun, you and the boy survive all this. You walk off into the sunset together – while the building burns in the background. You can marry each other. Happily ever after."

The cruelty of the decision sunk in slowly, twisting her heart and stomach, killing her from the inside.

"So Christine," he said. "I will give you an hour to decide."

"I can't make that kind of choice!" she yelled as hot tears streamed down her cheeks. "It's monstrous!"

"Well, I am a monster. I am a creature of darkness. And if you don't make your choice, I will do both. I will kill the boy and make the building jump jolly, jolly high. You might as well prevent one from happening."

She wrapped her arms around her shuddering body. She willed herself to be anywhere but here. "You're…"

"We have been through that, Darling. I am a monster. You hate me. _Oh, do hate me, Christine._ Perhaps I hate you, too. It does not matter. After this day, you never have to see Erik again. But, first, you _will_ make your choice. One hour!"

He quickly strode away and shut the door. He left her standing there, staring down at the building. People were trickling into it. Men in suits. Women in skirts and pantsuits and heels. A couple people were rushing in through a side door, an older woman with a guy around her age. And a dark-haired girl in a wheelchair.

Were all their lives in her hands now?

She couldn't. Not all those people. People with children and lovers, with friends and families.

But Raoul. _Oh God, Raoul. Oh, God…No._

Christine sank to her knees, entire body shaking with sobs. How had it come to this? How had it broken down into this?

Yes, she had truly found Hell.


	22. Chapter 22

I hope you enjoy this chapter. It was one of my favorites in this story to write. Thank you for all your support.

 **Read and Review!**

Nadir continued to feel the crushing weight of all his decisions. He couldn't sleep or eat or concentrate on anything excepting finding Raoul and Christine. It was only when he reminded himself, repeatedly, that the sole alternative option had been to kill Erik – it all seemed more complicated. Could he have done it back then? Even if Erik had made it easy, could Nadir have done it? Fired the bullet that would have ended this months ago?

Nadir still didn't know.

He had first met Erik while investigating deaths in the criminal underworld. One gang was always killing another. That was nothing new. It was the sheer number of deaths that had suddenly jumped up that year. Strangled victims. Mutilated victims. Even the criminals were terrified, whispering about a new hitman patrolling the area. One who was especially silent and deadly. One without mercy.

Nadir's first encounter with Erik had been utterly disturbing. Following a new lead, Nadir had tracked Erik into the city's sewer system. The homeless sometimes lived down there. The sewers were also used to dispose of bodies, to keep them hidden from police for a couple of days. Nadir had walked through the stinking, dripping tunnels with a flashlight and a gun. It had been stupid to go down there without backup, but Nadir had grown impatient. Stupidly impatient.

Suddenly, there had been laughter. Laughter echoing all around him. Nadir had flinched and reached for his gun.

"You call yourself an investigator?" the strange voice had mocked him. "You could not find your way out of a dressing room."

Nadir had been certain that he was going to die.

The voice continued, "Oh, don't go that that way. You'll fall right into a puddle." Nadir had immediately done so, landing on his hands and knees. His pants became soaked with filthy water. "Told you so. Look at you! You are a disaster. Go into a profession that suits you more. Perhaps a kindergarten teacher? Or a botanist."

Nadir had gotten the hell out of that tunnel, climbing the first iron ladder that he saw, thankful to get out of there with his life. But Erik wasn't finished with him. Nadir would hear that voice every so often, Erik mocking him. All Nadir ever saw were shadows and a pair of glowing yellow eyes.

And then one evening, while Nadir was investigating a murder at a house used for selling drugs, Erik had suddenly appeared right in front of him. A masked specter in the darkness. Tall and foreboding. Dressed entirely in black. So this is it, Nadir had thought. _I'm going to die in a crack house._

Erik had stood there, tilted his head, and then reached out with his arm. Nadir had recoiled, expecting the worse. But Erik had been holding a folded piece of paper. "What is it?" Nadir had asked.

"Do with it what you will," said Erik. "I do not care."

Nadir had taken it. By the time he'd looked back up, Erik was gone. Nadir had slowly opened it, hoping it wouldn't explode on him. In messy handwriting, the letter had said: _Children are being trafficked at 1544 Broadway St. At least ten of them in the basement. It_ was _well-guarded._

Of course, Nadir had investigated. He had wondered if the letter were a joke, if he would be ambushed upon arriving.

It was not a joke. Nadir had been a local hero for a couple of weeks as those poor children, most of them from foreign countries, had been pulled out of that hellish basement.

His relationship with Erik had continued on like that for some time. Nadir would back off of Erik. Erik would push the boundaries, kill a few too many men, and Nadir would again feel the need to arrest him. But then Erik would always give him some piece of information that led to horrific crimes, usually involving human trafficking or forced prostitution or pedophilia. Erik was simultaneously helping him stop the city's most evil people while advancing Nadir's career. What wasn't to love?

Erik the ghost had been a strange entity without needs or feelings or humanity. Erik the ghost was simple. Nadir had been able to work with him.

But Erik the man was so impossibly complicated. Erik the man needed far too much help – more help than Nadir had to give.

Nadir felt pain in his heart as he recalled those days from long ago. But the past was dead. And the present was urgent.

 _I have to stop him – by any means necessary._

Yet again Nadir was distracted from his mission.

On the day that the state legislature was convening to discuss SCI and Erik, about an hour before the meeting was to start, Nadir received a phone call. He had already decided not to go to the meeting. He had too much on his mind (and too little patience) to listen to a bunch of men in suits. Nadir already knew what the outcome of the meeting would be. Erik was doomed.

He was sitting at home in the dark, trying to think of other places that Erik might be hiding. His phone rang. Another unrecognizable number. Nadir answered with the hope that Erik was calling again. "Hello?"

"Hey there."

Nadir cringed with annoyance and disappointment. "Daniel. What do you want?"

"I need to meet with you."

"I am extraordinarily busy right now. I'm sure you've seen the news…"

"Yes. But I think you'll find this to be a very useful meeting."

Nadir felt vaguely curious. "What are you talking about? What have you been up to?"

"I've been trying to think of solutions to our problem."

"You found one?" Nadir asked. _I really am desperate – looking to this idiot for answers._

"More like a solution found me," Daniel replied.

"What are you talking about? Don't play mind games. It is not the right day for that."

"Come meet with me."

"Where are you?" Daniel gave him an address, right down to the four extra digits in the zip code. "You live there?" Nadir asked with slight surprise. "SCI must be paying you well."

"Just come on in," Daniel replied. "No need to knock."

"This sounds suspicious."

"I think you'll be pleasantly surprised," said Daniel. Then he hung up.

With no other leads to follow, no other paths to go down, Nadir got in his car and headed in that direction. General unease accompanied him. What the hell was he getting into now?

It wasn't too hard to find the address. The house was humongous and gorgeous, three stories of shiny bricks, trimmed in white around the windows. Pillars surrounded the entryway. A couple of the bedrooms had balconies. Feeling underdressed in jeans and a wrinkled white button-down shirt, Nadir knocked at a freshly painted black door. No answer. But Daniel had said to come on inside.

Nadir slowly opened the door but remained on the porch "Hello?" Nadir called. "Daniel?" His voice echoed off the high ceilings. The home smelled crisp and clean, as though no one were actually living in it.

"Hello, Nadir," said a somewhat familiar voice on his left.

He turned. His eyes widened. "Hope."

* * *

Christine could hear nothing but her own breath and the throbbing of her pulse. No matter how tightly she squeezed her eyes closed, she couldn't escape.

So she tried to think rationally. She tried to picture herself making the decision. She tried to picture the outcome. Maybe grabbing Raoul's hand and pulling him out of there, even as a cacophony of explosions and screams and sirens rang in the background. She picture hugging Raoul for comfort as dozens of people were murdered behind them.

Or she thought of telling Erik that she chose to save the people in the building. Erik would leave her alone in the silence as he went to execute her boyfriend. She pictured quiet grief and solitude, knowing that she had killed the one person who had cared about her.

 _I can't do this. I can't make either decision._

Her hands felt tingly, nearly numb. Dizzy, Christine lay on the cold cement floor, her cheek pressed against it. She smelled dust that was probably over a hundred years old.

Would she really let Erik do both? All because she couldn't make a decision?

He suddenly entered. Her heart froze. Was it already time? It didn't feel like it, but maybe all her perceptions were off.

His shiny black shoes came closer and closer. They stopped about three feet away from her.

"Now is an odd time to take a nap, Darling," he stated, calmly. "I came to see how you were progressing. You have thirty minutes left." She didn't respond. "Why are you on the floor? You will get very dirty."

"I can't," she murmured. "I can't do it."

"So both will happen then?" he asked. "I will kill the boy. And then make my way over to the building? I will be a very busy freak, won't I?"

"Please don't do this," she pled. "Please, please, please."

"Make your decision, Christine. Hate me. But make your decision." He turned to leave.

"Will you hurt him?" She forced the question out of her dry mouth. Each word tasted bitter.

"What?"

She raised her head slightly. "Would you hurt Raoul when you...?" The question was too poisonous to even ask.

A pause. "For you, my dear, I will ensure that his death is very painless. Does that make your decision for you? If I put the idiot into a gentle and permanent sleep, is that what you want? Christine likes the quiet. How delightful. I like the quiet, too."

"No," she whispered. "No. I just w-w-w…No. I haven't m-made my decision yet."

"Fine. Twenty-eight minutes then." Footsteps faded. The door closed.

She forced herself to a seated position and pulled her knees up to her chest. Her stomach burned. How did she make this decision? The number of people involved? But how could she let Raoul die? He'd done nothing but try to save her. He'd been so good to her. _I'm an awful girlfriend. If I were a good girlfriend, this would be easier. Obvious. I know what Raoul would choose. Me._

But all those people. She had seen the stories of suicide bombers on the news, the horrific deaths and injuries. Scorched skin. Amputations. She gagged as the picture became too vivid in her mind.

 _I know what I have to do, but I can't. I can't. Help me. Dad, help me._

" _Why is Mom always so cranky and mad?"_

" _Your mom gets depressed sometimes, sweetheart. Try to be understanding. I know it's hard when she's in one of her moods. But try to be good to her."_

" _I will. But I can still hang out with you, right?"_

 _He laughed. "Of course. You're my best buddy. You hang out with me whenever you feel like it."_

She ached to hear her father's rich, vibrant laughter. Everything had gone wrong after he had died. Everything was still going wrong. It was getting worse and worse. She had never recovered.

Maybe she never would.

* * *

"How are you?" Hope Ivey asked. She wore a loose grey skirt that flowed to the middle of her calves with an off-white top and matching sandals. She looked a little more casual than he had last seen her.

Surprise quickly turned to anger. "I'm…Well, I'm terrible! Have you seen what's happened? And you just left us all to clean up the mess. You left without a word." Nadir shook his head. "Of course it wasn't really your fault. It was mine. But you certainly haven't helped much."

"I'm sorry to have disappeared. But I was helping in my own way," she replied in a pleasant voice. "I knew the Governor wasn't going to help. He's a pompous ass. It all had to be done delicately and discreetly. I'm sorry that I couldn't tell you that."

"Where have you been?" Nadir asked. He followed her into the living room. It was full of shelves that were decorated with artistic objects, vases of flowers and glass figurines. She had two tan leather couches. She sat on one and smoothed her skirt over her legs. Nadir sat on the other.

"Would you like anything to drink?" she asked, standing again.

"Water would be great," said Nadir. "Thank you."

She left and came back with two glasses. They had indents to fit his fingers. He thanked her and took a drink. The water was ice cold. "Where have you been?" he repeated.

She sat again and leaned forward. "Talking to people who might appreciate what SCI has to offer. People with a little more power than the Governor."

"Who would that be?"

"Take a wild guess."

"Hollywood?" Nadir joked. She laughed. "I have no idea. Someone with the federal government?"

"More or less. A contractor with a lot of federal connections."

"Why would they care about SCI?" Nadir asked. "They already use virtual reality for military operations. And God knows what else."

"It's not really the virtual reality that they're interested in."

"Then what-" Nadir paused. "No. It's your ability to alter the mind, as you did with Erik. That's it, isn't it? That's what they don't have yet."

"You're very smart. Yes."

Nadir looked into his rippling water. "That all doesn't sound…very good."

"No," she agreed. "I'll give them very limited access to what we've accomplished. I've told Daniel to be careful. We'll all be careful."

He shook his head. "Hope, this experiment has already gone off the rails in more ways than one. Now it sounds like it's going to become an even bigger disaster. Maybe this needs to end. Maybe Erik doesn't belong in SCI."

"This is the only way," she replied. "To save him."

"It's dangerous! It's not ethical."

"Ethical is relative. You know that more than anyone."

"Damn it!" He turned his frustration toward himself. "I knew this was wrong, but I was desperate. I was desperate to save Erik."

"We have to save him," she agreed.

"We don't know if we can save him! We don't even know where he is!"

"I know we can save him. We were very close. We have to try."

"Why go to these lengths?" He looked into her eyes. Pained dark eyes. "You really care that much about Erik?" Nadir asked, beginning to get an even stranger feeling. Months ago, he had had noticed that there was something familiar about Hope. He noticed it again. "You didn't even know Erik that well. The real him. Why do you care? For money? You think this is all profitable?"

"It's good science." Her voice was strained.

"I don't believe you." Nadir set down his glass. "No, you don't seem like you're hurting for money." He gestured to the enormous home. "What is in this for you? Fame? Do you want to be famous?"

She laughed, and there was something unsettling in the sound. "I've had enough fame to last me a lifetime. I don't want money, and I certainly don't want fame. There's only one thing I want. To save him."

"And why is that, _Hope_?" Nadir paused. "Is that even your real name?"

"You can check my driver's license. My passport."

Nadir studied her again, the lines and shape of her face. It wasn't coming to him yet. He looked around and saw no pictures of her or any family. Everything in that room was strangely impersonal. Hope was another ghost, flitting about, never there when he needed her.

Which meant Hope the woman had to be very complicated.

* * *

Again, Erik came in. Black shoes slowly sauntering over concrete.

"Still on the dirty, dirty floor?" he asked. He tsked. "At least you are sitting up. Ten minutes to go. What shall it be?"

She could have screamed at him, cursed him, and declared again that she hated him. But that was what Erik wanted, wasn't it? Her rage. She tried the opposite. She turned over to kneel on her knees. Putting her hands together as though in prayer, abandoning all pride, Christine begged. "Please don't do this." She stared up at him. "Please. I'll do anything. Anything. Please don't do this. I'm begging you with all I have for their lives."

It didn't work. "Don't do that!" Erik snapped, turning away from her.

"Have some compassion!"

"There is no compassion in this world," he said, softly. "None for me. None for anyone. This is a dark, hellish world. Listen to this! Does this sound like compassion to you?" She realized that he was holding the portable television. Erik turned up the volume.

She heard the voice of an older man - "What we have here is a complete collapse in due process. No trial. No jury. No punishment. No justice! We stuck a murderer, a first degree murderer, into a virtual reality system that was intended for sick and injured people. Not criminals! It's disgusting. This monster should be locked up. The key should be thrown away. This should never happen again!"

Christine cringed.

"Such compassion, yes?" Erik chuckled. "Oh, I really do want to kill them all. Release me from my leash, Christine. I am nothing more than your devoted dog, and I ask only to be freed. You and your boy go off together happily. And I go _kaboom!_ " Erik looked back at the television, where men in suits continued to condemn him.

Screaming didn't work. Begging didn't work. Her father had told her to try to understand people, including her mother, even when they were being difficult. The only thing she could think to do was to try and understand him.

Taking a deep breath, Christine slowly climbed to her feet. Her legs felt weak and shaky. "Erik?" He didn't reply, didn't look at her. He seemed transfixed by the television. "You went to SCI because you…you killed someone. Why did you kill that man?"

"Because I am a monster." He still didn't look at her.

"But why?" she pressed. "What was the reason?"

"It really does not matter."

"Money? Robbery? Or for drugs? Did you get into a fight? Why?"

" _Why does it matter?!_ Are you looking for more of a reason to hate me? Is that it?"

"If you want to put it that way, fine," she replied, feeling the heat build within her. He was impossible. "You really want me to hate you? I don't even know you! I barely know anything about you. This is my last chance to find out, if you're going to kill yourself and everybody else. Tell me about yourself. Then I can hate you."

He laughed and finally faced her. "I killed that man because I was out of my goddamned mind. I thought the man was a threat to me. I was a paranoid disaster. And so I murdered him for no reason at all. Hate me for it. I want you to!"

She hesitated. "Paranoid? Are you, um, are you schizophrenic or something like that?"

Erik chuckled again. "No. I am not schizophrenic. Hell, I would have liked to have heard voices. At least I would have had company all those years. But no."

"Then you were just paranoid?" Something still didn't make sense. "Have people tried to kill you in the past?"

"Years ago, someone was always trying to kill me. Those were fun days. Never a dull moment." She was about to ask another question, but Erik continued, "I killed that man because I was on an illegal substance. It made me paranoid."

"Drugs?" she asked with a swallow.

"Yes." He towered over her. It took all of her willpower not to run backwards. "Not only am I murderer – no," he whispered. "But an addict, too. A monster. Do you hate me yet? Your time is almost up. Are you trying to distract me? You won't."

"And you're still on the drugs?" He glared down at her. "Are you?"

"The day you tried to _kill_ me with the vase, I ceased taking them."

"Why?" she asked. No answer. He turned his back toward her. His arms and hands were shaking. This was very dangerous, but she couldn't help herself. "Why did you stop?" she asked again. Her own sanity was wavering. "Why? Why?"

He whirled around, yellow eyes flashing with rage. _"Because of you!"_ he screamed into her face. She could feel his hot breath. She leaned back but kept her feet planted, determined not to back down. Let him strike her. Let him finally cross that line. Then maybe she would hate him. "I stopped taking those damned pills because of you! To protect you! _And_ I killed that man because of you!"

"What?" she whispered, utterly lost.

"Before you, I had hidden myself away forever. I was dead to the world. I was finished. Until you. From the moment I saw you, I wanted you. I wanted everything about you. Your voice. Your face. Your smile. The way you spoke to others. The way your hands touched the stage props. _I loved you!_ And I could not take it. I could not handle needing you so very badly, when you would always despise me. _You hate me! You hate me!_ " She shook her head back and forth but was unable to speak. Tears streamed down her cheeks. "So the pills…the pills made it all so much easier. They numbed me. But they also made me sick and paranoid – and murderous. So I was locked inside SCI, a freak in a mental cage. And again I was nearly erased from the world. Although…" His hand reached out. It looked as though he were going to touch her cheek. His hand dropped away before he did. "I could never quite forget you, even in SCI. But you were safe, my love. You were safe from Erik forever. Until the Governor pulled me out and back into this hellish world. I could not resist you a second time. I could not…"

She was too overwhelmed to reply. Or to even be offended that he was blaming her for all that had happened. Her heart hurt. She searched for the right words.

He sharply looked up and toward the building. His voice quieted. "Darling, you are out of time. And I know you want to save your boy. That would make you very happy, wouldn't it? So do it. Let me roast all of those useless idiots alive. What do you care about them? By pulling me out of SCI, they made you miserable, too. You should hate them nearly as much as I do."

"Erik." She drew his attention back to her. "I'm sorry that you went through all that."

"I bet you are _very_ sorry that they took me out of SCI!" he snapped.

"If you were happy in there, I'm sorry they took you out. Were you happy?"

"It does not matter now. Forget SCI. I don't want your pity. Make your goddamned choice."

"It's not pity! I'm trying to understand. I don't hate you. I'm sorry I said that. I was afraid and angry. And I'm sorry."

"Don't be. It is your right to hate me. Hate me. Make your choice, Christine. Free us both."

Her shoulders slumped. "Don't you see, Erik?" she softly asked, staring out the window with him. The sun was lower in the sky now. "I won't be free. I won't even hate you. I'll just feel pain. I'll be heartbroken forever. Is that what you want? Do you hate me that much?"

"Why do you care so much about them?" he snapped. "They don't care about you!"

"Because they're people. They're human beings. Just like you."

" _Stop it!"_

"No. You stop it. This choice…I don't even know if I want to live after making it." She bowed her head. She prayed for mercy.

A moment of silence passed.

"Fine," he rasped. "Fine. It will not be your choice anymore. I am making it for you. I am going into that building and ending this. Your boy is alive on the floor right below us. Leave this room and take the stairwell on your right. Second door on the left."

Her head snapped up. She reached out. "Erik! Don't do this!"

"It won't be your fault." He sounded sincere. "It is off your conscience. It is not your choice. It is all Erik. All the monster. I have to. I hate them. I hate people. Except for you, I hate them." He backed away from her.

"Don't! I'll do anything!" She followed him. She tried to grab his arm. He stayed out of her reach. "Please!"

"Why do you care so much about them?!"

"I care about _you_! This is the last thing you'll ever do. It's the worst thing you'll ever do! It's how you'll be remembered by everyone. Forever." Her face collapsed. "I spent time with you. I got to know you. We sang together. I don't want to remember you like this. Don't leave me with that! Please!" She pled through heaving sobs. "Please don't leave me with that."

"You were going to leave me first," Erik snarled. Again, she tried to grab him. Again, he lurched away. "Now we both get what we want, yes?" He whirled around and headed for the door.

She could only chase after him.

* * *

"How long have you lived here?" Nadir asked.

"I've owned the property for years," Hope replied. "I'm constantly on the move, traveling, promoting SCI. But I still stay here sometimes."

"Do you have family?"

"Everyone has family, Nadir. Otherwise, we wouldn't exist." She shook her head. "This isn't a conversation about me. It's about Erik. We're helping Erik. And I think we should talk about the logistics of all this. Of course, we'll have help capturing Erik. Better than local law enforcement."

"What are you talking about?" Nadir asked, temporarily allowing her to take control of the conversation. "The marines?"

She laughed. "I don't know if we'll have to go that far."

"Then you don't know Erik," Nadir wryly replied.

She continued, "Of course, Erik won't be at SCI this time, but we can still plug him into the System from a remote location. A secure location where he won't be disturbed again."

Nadir sighed. "I still don't like where this is going. The more I think about it, the less it makes sense. Erik is dangerous. The government is dangerous. Could there be a more toxic combination? This isn't going to end well, one way or another."

"Then what do you suggest, Mr. Khan? What becomes of poor Erik?"

It broke Nadir's heart to say it. But he had to. "Erik belongs in prison. If he won't allow himself to be captured, then he will likely die."

"No," said Hope, half rising out of her chair. "Do you have any idea what prison is like? No, you're giving up, Nadir. You can't give up. I never do. This time, it will be different. Erik will be left in peace. He'll get better."

"You don't even know where he is! You don't know if he'll let himself be captured alive! He may be done with SCI. Hell, he may be done with life!"

"Don't give up," she said, jaw clenched. "We'll find him. I know we'll find him and bring him home. I know we will."

 _Find him. I can't find him._

Nadir sharply glanced up and studied her. Words from the past echoed in his mind - _"Where's my son? I can't find him! I can't find him!"_

 _Oh my God. It can't be._

 _But it is._

Hope Ivey.

Ivey.

I. V.

Nadir suddenly remembered Hope. He remembered her from one of the worst days of his career.

He remembered that her first name was Isabel. She'd had blonde hair back then. Like the other parents Nadir had seen that horrible day, she had been frantic and distraught. Unlike the other parents, she hadn't learned whether her child was dead or alive.

She had learned what he had _done._

And, finally, Nadir understood what she wanted.

This wasn't about Erik. Erik was the guinea pig. Erik was the clinical trial.

"You just realized who I am, didn't you?" Hope warily asked as he gaped at her. "I'm kind of glad you did. We're on the exact same page, and now you finally know that. Now we can really help each other."

* * *

Erik didn't lock her in there.

He could have, but he didn't. Was it an oversight? Was it so she could get out with Raoul? Or did Erik want her to stop him? She didn't know. Christine ran after him, down the first set of steps.

"Stop!" she screamed, her voice echoing through the stairwells.

"Your boy is in there." Erik pointed to a door and continued downwards. His footsteps were silent. Hers made a lot of noise.

She glanced at the door, mentally noting it for later, but continued to follow him.

"Erik, stop! Don't do this!"

She increased her pace, taking two to three steps at a time. Her own voice and steps echoed. She felt disoriented and dizzy but managed not to trip and fall. She was flying, out of her own body, not quite herself.

His pace didn't change. She nearly caught up to him.

What she did next was incredibly dangerous. With Erik in that state of mind. With him wearing that awful vest. She could have ignited them all. Killed herself, Erik, and maybe even Raoul.

But it was all she had left.

As he reached one of the lower floors, Christine dove off the second step and hugged him from behind. She tightened her arms around his narrow waist, pressed her cheek against his back, and squeezed her eyes shut. She braced for the worst.

He stopped walking. He stood completely still.

But he didn't explode. Seconds ticked by, and they were both still alive, both breathing heavily.

"Don't," she whispered, still choked from tears. "Don't. If you don't do this, I'll…I'll stay with you forever. I'll never ask to leave again. I'll…" She swallowed. She knew what she needed to say. She knew what he wanted. She had to. And it would be okay. Somehow, she would be okay. "I'll marry you."


	23. Chapter 23

**A slightly shorter chapter and perhaps not everything you might have been expecting. But we'll get there. I'm glad you enjoyed the twist, as it will help tie the rest of the story together.**

 **Read and Review!**

Nearly a decade ago, Honey Locust High School would begin the year with a giant assembly, celebrating their sports teams, especially their champion basketball team, and school spirit. Along with the assembly, there was a mini carnival outside with hotdogs and cotton candy. They would bus the students to the stadium. It was always the kickoff for the new year, right before homecoming. Honey Locust was known for being a public school with a very wealthy student population, always boasting high test scores and kids accepted into the Ivy League schools.

But Honey Locust wasn't famous for those reasons any longer.

Nadir wasn't on duty that day. He had been trying to relax at a nearby café, drinking a mocha with a newspaper in hand. Those were the days when Erik would occasionally drop by and scare the hell out of him. But, for once, Erik wasn't the problem.

He got the call: "You need to come in. This is going to be really bad."

Nadir hadn't seen the news. "What's going on?"

"Mass casualty situation at the Honey Locust stadium. We've got all units responding. Bomb squad, too."

"Bomb squad?" Nadir had asked with disbelief, rising from his chair.

"Multiple reports of explosions, which means the feds will be involved. It's going to be a long, terrible day, Khan. Take a deep breath and get over here."

It had been a long terrible day. For the entire city. Nicholas Vaughan, all by himself, had decided to take a semiautomatic rifle and homemade explosives to the assembly. While the incendiary devices had caused panic and injuries, it was the gun that had claimed the most victims. Nicholas had spent months at local shooting ranges, practicing for the day. The tragedy made news across the country, firing up the same debates about gun control and - _what was the matter with all these screwed up kids?_

Most evidence indicated that Nicholas had been awkward and kept to himself, with only a couple of friends that he kept at a distance. He was more ignored by his peers than bullied by them. He was 'kind of weird' but not enough to attract the attention of the school counselor. Aloof but fairly polite. Lower grades but extraordinarily high test scores.

Nadir hadn't been heavily involved in the investigation, only arriving at the scene once it was mostly under control. The police had set up a sort of command post in a fire station near the stadium. They directed frantic parents to the proper hospitals.

While Nadir hadn't spoken to her, he had seen Isabel enter the station. She had run up to two other officers, out of breath and coated in perspiration.

" _Where's my son? I can't find him! I can't find him! I heard something happened at the assembly. But I can't find him. Help me! I can't find him!"_

" _Calm down, Ma'am. We'll help you. What's your name?"_

" _Isabel!"_

" _What's your last name? What's your son's name?!"_

Nadir had never quite forgotten the sound that woman, that mother, made when the truth was explained to her. A wail of grief mixed with horror and regret.

I. V.

Isabel Vaughan.

"Were you there that day?" she asked, her eyes fixed on his face. "I don't remember you. But I don't remember much."

"I was nearby. You didn't speak to me, but I saw you run in. I didn't recognize you until now."

"That's because I got a nose job and dyed my hair. Changed my name. When you're the mother of a mass murderer… people tend to look at you funny."

"I can only imagine," said Nadir. He felt numb and strange, still unable to completely grasp this situation.

"My husband left. He couldn't take it. I think he remarried and has a little girl now."

"I'm very sorry," said Nadir, awkwardly.

"I didn't remarry," she continued. "I visit my son twice a year."

"And you were hired by SCI?"

"Yes. Most people at SCI don't know who I really am. And I wasn't just hired because of Nick. Or out of pity. Years ago, I was a child psychiatrist. Dr. Vaughan." She rolled her eyes. "Oh, that fed the media fire. Mommy must have done some Freudian voodoo on Nick. She must have made him snap."

"I never believed that," said Nadir. "I never blamed you."

Hope didn't seem to hear him. "It went on and on. I must have let him listen to the wrong music. Or play the wrong video games. Or let him eat the wrong kind of cookie. I wish I were kidding."

"You know how the twenty-four hours news cycle is. They have to talk about something, no matter how absurd. I hope you ignored them."

She stared off to the side silently for a moment. "What do you think was wrong with Nick?" she asked, folding her hands in her lap.

"I don't have the expertise to make that-"

"No, no, no. We're all friends here. I want to know what you really think."

Nadir sighed. "From what I've seen of the world, I believe that the majority criminals are products of nurture over nature. They had highly neglectful and abusive childhoods. That's definitely the case with Erik. But…I honestly believe that Nicholas, from all evidence presented, was a notable exception. There was a chemical imbalance. What was it?" Nadir tried to remember all the headlines from back then. "He set your neighbor's porch on fire when he was eleven? For the fun of it. There was something wrong with him."

"You won't be surprised to find out that I agree," she said. "I wasn't a perfect mother. Who is? Maybe I was less attentive than I could have been. But I never even spanked him! Neither did his father. We barely raised our voices. Yet, even when he was a toddler, there was something…off. We couldn't connect with him. I know it bothered my husband. He would see all these fathers playing backyard football or going camping with their sons, and Nick never had an interest. Most of the time, he seemed annoyed with us. Although, once in a while, I could get him to sit in my lap...and talk to me."

"There was nothing to be done," said Nadir, gently. "It wasn't your fault. It was a horrible tragedy. The only thing we could have done is institutionalized him before it happened. But you know what they say about hindsight."

"But there is still something to be done," said Hope. She suddenly stood.

Nadir felt his heart sink. "SCI."

She gave him a close-lipped smile. "You and I, Nadir. We're not so very different. We both care about - I _love_ someone whom everyone else…hates." Her voice wavered on the last word. She quickly regained her composure. "It's an odd feeling, isn't it? As though you're doing something you shouldn't be. As though you're doing something bad." She shrugged. "And yet I can't help it. Neither can you."

Nadir stared at her for a long moment. There was uncomfortable truth in her words. He felt so many different and painful things. "Hope. Isabel. I don't know if this is all…I understand. But I can't endorse…"

She sat beside him, so that their legs nearly touched, and faced him. She placed her right hand on his left upper arm. "Help me. Help me help them. This is not out of greed or anything nefarious. It's all out of love. We were so close."

Amidst the storm of emotions, Nadir searched for logic. "You don't even know if what works for Erik will work for Nick. They may have completely different minds."

"That's not true," she said. "There are similarities. Lack of fear response. Inability to empathize. It won't be exactly the same. But Erik is key. We were so close to fixing him."

"We don't even know if we can get Erik back," Nadir reminded her. "And Nicholas. We can't…" Just the thought of it made Nadir queasy.

"Of course freeing Nick from a maximum security prison isn't going to be easy. But there are avenues."

"Hope. I have sympathy for you. I do. But what Nicholas did was-"

"Erik has killed more people than Nick," she interrupted. "Yet you were eager to get him into SCI."

Nadir shifted uncomfortably. "Erik was a hitman. And the majority of the people that he killed were criminals. It was only when he did murder an innocent man – then I knew that Erik had to be taken off the streets. But even that murder was caused by a fit of drug-induced madness. Erik did not deliberately orchestrate the deaths of dozens of innocent people. Of innocent teenagers." Nadir felt the cracks in his argument. He did not want to be an apologist. "Despite all of this, I've already told you. Maybe Erik doesn't belong in SCI. Maybe both Erik and Nicholas belong in prison!"

"Or maybe I'm right!" she exclaimed. "And we can save them both. We can give them both normal and happy lives. And we can help other young men who lose their way in the darkness. We can give them light. While making sure that they never hurt anyone again."

"And you really think that the government…that society will be okay with this?"

"I don't give a damn what society thinks." Hope's eyes flashed angrily. Her mind was obviously made up.

"I can't-"

Nadir's phone rang, startling them both.

* * *

After she said it aloud, Christine nearly fainted. Her vision darkened, and she swayed. The floor tilted beneath her. She took a deep breath, leaning against him for a moment to hold herself up.

"Marry me," Erik shakily muttered. He slowly turned around. She was forced to step back and release him.

She stared up into his eyes. "Yes," she said. "I'll marry you. I'll be your wife."

She was terrified that he would say "no." And, in a completely different way, also terrified that he would say "yes."

"You...you make this offer to save their pointless lives!" Erik shouted, although Christine could tell that she had taken him off guard. There was a tremble in his voice, an unsteadiness in his legs. "You do it only to save them."

"I don't want them to die," she softly agreed. "But I don't want you to die either. If marrying you will make you want to live, if that's enough, then I will do it." He was silent. "I won't complain anymore. As soon as you let him go, I won't ask about Raoul." He reflexively flinched at the last word. "Come with me. Let's leave this place together. I don't hate you. And I don't want you to die."

"You could be lying," he murmured. "You could be lying to get your way."

"So what stops you from carrying this out on another day? You could walk into any crowd on any day with a bomb."

"I…"

"You told me you could be good. Prove it. Prove to me that you can be good, and I'll stay, Erik. We can do whatever you want. Sing. Go for walks. See the world. Anything." As she said it aloud, it didn't even sound so terrifying.

He was very quiet. Her stomach turned as she waited. What if he refused the offer? She had nothing left to give. If he didn't accept, she would have to try to get into the building first and warn everyone. Given Erik's speed, she was very unlikely to succeed.

Who was she kidding? It would be impossible.

"Would you hold my hand?" he softly asked. "If we would marry, would you hold my hand?"

She almost laughed and cried at the same time. "I'll hold your hand whenever you want, Erik."

He just stood there, arms limp at this sides, still holding the little television.

She cautiously approached. "Let's get that thing off of you, okay?"

He took a step backwards. "It was supposed to happen. It was all supposed to end today." He brought the television up to his face and stared at it.

"Erik. Stop looking at that. They can't do anything to you. Turn it off. Come with me."

"But I hate them all."

"I know you do. But don't let them win by proving them right. If we leave this city, you never have to think about them again."

"What if you're lying?"

"I swear to God that I'm not."

He continued to look back and forth between her and the television. Erik suddenly seemed to focus extra intensely on the screen, and he had the strangest look in his eyes. Shock. Christine had never seen Erik look that surprised before. "Why is she…?" he whispered. With a strangled cry, he hurled the television down the remaining flights of stairs. She flinched as it crashed against the concrete, probably breaking into several pieces.

Erik suddenly ripped off his mask and approached her. Christine tried to stay steady. "You will marry me?" he viciously asked. "You will marry _this_? You are willing to be with _this_ for the rest of your life? Wedded to a freak?"

"Yes," she said. "But you're not a freak." She kept her eyes on his face, adjusting to it. "I will marry you, Erik."

She started to walk toward him, to offer affection. But Erik was still too angry. "Fine," he snapped, slapping the mask back onto his face. "Fine. You will be mine forever then. Instead of freeing yourself, you have sacrificed yourself. I hope you don't regret this in the morning, my love, as there won't be any escaping your decision." He started to go down the steps. "Well?" he asked, glancing back at her. "Come along, Darling. We have to be married."

"Could you please take that vest off?" she asked. "And tell someone where Raoul is? Please?"

With a furious sigh, Erik began to unbuckle the straps. She nervously watched, praying the bombs wouldn't go off by accident. Her heart fluttered with relief once it was off of him. "Thank you," she said.

"I will tell someone about the little idiot once we have left," Erik said through clenched teeth.

She nodded. He threw the vest onto the ground and again she braced herself for an explosion. None came. Christine went down the stairs with him, nearly at his side. She could barely think now. One foot in front of the other, she moved robotically. She had no plans to run. No plans to do anything except keep her promise. They exited through a heavy metallic door, and she breathed in the fresh air from outside, finally out of the stale factory. Sticking to the shadows, she followed Erik down the empty sidewalk. Erik didn't spare the brightly lit government building a second glance when they walked past it. She did and then followed him into a dark parking garage. They went down another set of concrete steps to a lower level. The black car was waiting several rows down. Erik unlocked it with the push of a button. Christine climbed inside and hugged her arms against her chest. Erik climbed in, too.

Without looking at her, he started the car. He backed out of the space quickly and left the garage. The city blocks passed rapidly, blurs of colorful lighted signs and human bodies. It continued to get darker. She tried not to be terrified about the speed at which Erik was driving.

Once they were a couple of miles away, Erik pulled out a phone and pushed a single button. She could barely hear someone answer. Erik said, "Chagny is in the abandoned car factory, near the government complex where that charming little meeting about me was held. He is uninjured."

Christine could hear the man on the other side asking questions about her.

"She is fine," Erik snapped.

The man didn't sound reassured. He sounded very, very angry.

"Can I please talk to him?" Christine softly asked, holding out her hand. Erik glanced at her, eyes narrowing with suspicion. "I promise I won't give us away. I'll make things better." To her surprise, Erik hesitated for another moment and then actually handed her the phone. He kept an eye on her as he drove. "Hi," she began. "This is Christine."

"Christine!" the man exclaimed with relief. He had a deep and pleasant voice. "Where are you? Let me help you. Where are you?"

"What's your name?" she asked.

"I'm Nadir. Nadir Khan. Let me help you."

She vaguely remembered him from the news. "Nadir. I want to let you know that I'm okay. I'll be fine. Everyone can stop looking for me. I want them to."

"No, Christine. Let me help you. Tell me where you are."

"Please make sure Raoul is okay. And tell him that I'll be okay. And tell him to please, please stop looking. I'm fine. I can take care of myself, and I'm fine. It would be best if everyone would stop looking."

"No! Where are you?"

"Goodbye, Nadir. Take care." She hung up. Looking Erik in the eye, she held out the phone. He took it, studying her for another moment, before looking back at the road. They drove on silently.

She was still in partial shock, overwhelmed and on the verge of crying from the stress of it all. Somehow, she held it together for a little while longer.

Amidst the chaos, one fact stuck out in her mind.

Erik wanted her. More than he wanted to murder anyone. More than he wanted death and destruction and revenge—Erik wanted to marry her.

It still wasn't fair, that she should be forced into this situation. And yet – yet she could handle this. She could not handle bombs. And death. But she could handle this.

"Erik?"

"Yes?" He didn't sound angry.

There was a part of her that still wanted to scream at him. _What the hell were you thinking? Are you insane? Do you know what you almost did?_

She asked, "Can we get something to eat? That's not a sandwich?"

"Yes. Of course," he replied. "My fiancée needs to eat. Of course." He hummed as they drove. "The days are shortening," he commented. "I rather like it. Long stretches of darkness."

If she had any suspicions that this had been Erik's goal all along, they were soon erased. She could tell by the uncertain way he stared at the roads and restaurants that he had not planned for this, not planned to live through the end of the day.

Outside of the city, he soon fed her a slice of pepperoni pizza and a garden salad, then snuck her into a three star hotel. He allowed her to buy a little pound cake from the vending machine for dessert. Once they were back in the room, he placed a laptop in front of her. He firmly told her to pick out a wedding dress. Any one that she liked. No matter how expensive.

Then he said, "I am stepping outside for a moment. She eyed him, worried that he would finish what he had started. "I simply need air," he stated, obviously reading her mind. "Find your dress. And shoes. And jewelry. Anything you like. Anything at all."

"I will," she promised.

And she followed through with promise, as tears of both trauma and relief streamed down her cheeks.

* * *

 _He_ remained outside for over an hour.

A long time ago, an acquaintance had literally stabbed _him_ in the back, the result of a silly territorial war. _He_ had killed the man quickly. But the wound had still hurt like hell and quickly become infected. It was hot and sore. Agonizing.

That was what his mind felt like now. His brain felt inflamed and swollen. Until he could not tell what was what any longer. Until all he could see waiting for him was the beautiful void of death. He wanted to escape himself, to escape the world, and to punish mankind. All of it could be over with a simple act of violence. A victorious explosion. All he felt was burning hatred toward all who had wronged him. From his vile mother. To those who had abused him and trained him in his youth. To those who had used him to do their bidding. To SCI. To the Governor. To the vile boy.

But not Christine. Even as he tried, he was incapable of feeling real hatred toward her.

The first epiphany, the first water on his inflamed brain, was that he did not really want to hurt her. As Christine tried to be kind, tried to understand, he could not hate her. So he had taken the choice away. He would not force her to make it.

But he had still wanted out. And he had still wanted revenge and a body count.

Yet she had stopped him. With a simple promise.

The promise of a lovely wife. And a life on Earth. Flashes of what might be lit up his mind. Walks with his wife as the sun set. Dinner with his wife beside a cozy fire. Holding his wife's hand as they read. He had not trusted her. But it was such a lovely promise. All he had ever wanted wrapped up into a few simple words.

He had been ninety-nine percent certain that he would choose Christine over vengeance.

The final one percent was decided by the television. Or rather – what was on the television. Who was on the television. He had seen that girl. In this world rather than the other. Alice was out of Wonderland. She was small and frail and - _what the hell was she doing here?_

So he did not want to kill her. Or the Giry woman. His vengeful plan was stolen from him by multiple hands. By some of the few people he did not despise.

As he left Christine at the hotel, he was still rather angry about this. Because it had been time to make mankind pay. It had been time for humanity to suffer.

And yet they would not now. Because of his lovely Christine. His future wife. Love for her crept back into his system, into his veins, the antidote to the hatred.

Still, he felt ill. Sick of himself. Sick from himself. Yes, he was a walking disease, wasn't he? In the hotel parking lot, he vomited behind a bush. He hadn't eaten over the past few days, so it was mostly bile. Or perhaps he was throwing up his own wretchedness. He sat huddled on the ground for a few moments, wishing he did not exist.

He should be dead now. Along with all the morons in suits and ties, he should be dead, pieces of his organs and droplets of his blood scattered across the city. Again, the rage bubbled inside of him. His mind raced back and forth between love and hatred – until he felt insane with the confusion of it all.

He headed back inside. He was only alive because of Christine and her promises. Which she _would_ fulfill. He would order her to buy a dress right now. For their wedding. He would demand her affection. He would demand her eternal vows. They did not even need someone to officiate. _He_ would marry them.

He would _make_ her love him. She had no choice now! She had promised. _She had promised to be his forever!_

He swept into the hotel room like the darkest of storms, ready to make demands of her.

The room was very dim. She was asleep on the bed. It was still made, and she was still dressed. Lying on her stomach. Head turned to face him. Cheeks slightly red and moist.

Part of the pound cake remained. It was carefully wrapped and sitting on the desk. On a notepad with the name of the hotel, Christine had written a short message.

 _Erik, the other half is for you :)_

His heart dropped into his stomach.

He fell onto his knees beside the bed, removed his mask, and buried his awful face into his awful hands.

He knew what he was and could never, ever escape it. He was lost. And damned.

"Erik?" she asked, awakening.

He tensed, waiting for her condemnation, her curses, her hatred.

"Erik, give me your hand."

He found her fingers in the darkness and grabbed onto her hand for dear life. Her skin was warm and smooth. Christine held on all night, even as she slept. She held his hand, just as she had promised to do.

He felt the stirrings of something both wonderful and horrible in his chest.

Something he could never quite escape after that night.


	24. Chapter 24

Another short chapter here, but one I hope you will enjoy. A few chapters of…awkward fluff?...before we get back to the plot. Thank you all for sticking with me.

 **Read and Review!**

Nadir hung up. He slapped his phone on the table. With a groan, he ran his hands over his face.

"What's wrong?" Hope asked.

"That was Erik. I have to go. He told me where Raoul is."

"Is Raoul alive?"

"I think so. But…Erik still has Christine, and he's not going to let her go."

Hope tilted her head. "Now see. This is where we can make everything better. Erik obviously has a need for companionship. I was encouraging him to date in SCI. He had the perfect chance at a normal relationship with a nice young lady." She looked to the side. "Nick never seemed to care very much about girls." She quickly added, "Or boys. I mean, not that it would have mattered either way. He was reclusive."

"What?" Nadir stared at her with disbelief. "I couldn't care less about that right now. I have to go." He stood and headed for the door.

"I'm going to find Erik first," she stated, following him. "But, if you want my help, if you want to help Erik, give me a call. I think we can be an excellent team with a wonderful goal."

Nadir left without a word, almost grateful for an excuse to escape. The high ceilings and white walls gave him the creeps, especially when contrasted against the reality of Hope. She had been one step ahead of him this entire time. Was she dangerous? What sort of connections did she have?

Nadir didn't have time to think about it. He alerted the authorities to Raoul's location. They immediately evacuated the building where the legislative meeting was held, obviously spooked that Erik had managed to come so close to them.

Raoul was a little beat up, but he would recover. With the reluctant permission of the Governor, Nadir managed to obtain access to the young man at the hospital.

"Where is she?" Raoul choked out, eyes wide and frantic. "Where's Christine?" He was hooked up to an IV. His voice was hoarse, and his neck was very bruised.

"I don't know," said Nadir. Raoul's face fell. "But I need you to tell me everything you remember, even if it seems insignificant." Raoul did so, struggling with some details. He had discovered Christine near the house in the forest. They had tried to escape, but Erik had attacked and strangled him. Raoul didn't remember much after that, just being dragged from place to place, flashes of a black mask and 'evil' yellow eyes.

"How did Christine seem to you?" Nadir asked. "Was she hurt?"

Raoul hesitated. "She was…scared. But she seemed…I don't know. Kind of okay. She didn't look injured."

Nadir nodded. "That's good."

"But he _could_ hurt her! He seemed insane. How are we going to find her now?" Raoul asked.

"I don't know."

Raoul lay back onto the pillow and stared up at the ceiling. "I don't know what to do anymore."

"Don't do anything," Nadir ordered. "You can't handle this on your own."

"You can't seem to either," muttered Raoul.

Nadir looked down. "You're probably right about that. And I'm sorry."

As Nadir left the hospital, he couldn't help but wonder. Did Hope have the manpower to find Erik? It was possible, given that the government might be interested in SCI's technology.

Even if she did, what about all the ethical concerns? The legal concerns?

Still, Nadir had to admit to himself that he didn't want to see Erik dead or imprisoned, even if that outcome seemed inevitable. He would rather see Erik safe and happy within SCI.

Yet there was something off about Hope. She had let grief cloud her judgment.

Then again -

Hell, maybe he and Hope weren't all that different.

Nadir's thoughts jumped back and forth. He didn't know what was right any longer. Maybe there was no _right_.

But there was a wrong. Erik had kidnapped Christine. They had to capture him and get her back.

* * *

Despite her glorious promise, _he_ did not want her to be miserable. He did not want a dead eyed wife. He wanted a happy, living wife.

And screaming at Christine would not accomplish that.

But what would?

His heart calmed, and the heat of anger faded. Reason returned.

Sitting there that night in the silence, holding her warm hand, he tried to think of something that would repair this disaster. He could come up with nothing at first. His life was nothing but misery and violence, death and manipulation, crime…punishment.

Except for SCI.

 _Alice._ Seeing her reminded him of his time in the System. Old memories were sparked back to life, distant dreams of that world. Yes, it was all returning now. Parties. Games. Sports. He had done those things - things that were not executions or theft or blackmail.

Alice had not been afraid. She had invited him into her home without hesitation. The other young adults had not feared him. Because, in SCI, _he_ had not been hideous and old. A masked freak of nature. How the hell did that help now? He was trapped with his repulsiveness.

Unless…unless there was a bit more to it than that? He had acted differently around Alice, hadn't he? Yes, of course he had. He had not sedated and kidnapped Alice. There had been no reason or wish to do so, or to harm anyone there. It had all been so abnormally normal. His brain had been different, his desires and concerns altered. He had reasoned differently, and his thoughts had been calmer. He had not _hated_ with such intensity. He had not been himself. How delightful – to not be himself.

He momentarily searched for the mindset of that self but could not find it. It was like trying to read the mind of another person. And, while he had many talents, telepathy was not one of them. He remembered that world yet felt blind when it came to his interactions there.

Christine sighed in her sleep. He held on more tightly to her hand, desperately searching for an epiphany that would save him, that would make her love him.

By morning, he thought that he had perhaps found it.

* * *

When she awoke, still laying atop the made hotel bed, her first thought was - _I desperately need a shower._

How many days had it been since she'd had one? Christine felt grimy and sticky, her hair oily. Nothing sounded better than warm water streaming over her, washing away the terror.

She soon sensed the pressure on her skin and looked down. Erik was on the floor, holding her hand, staring at her. She remembered him coming into the room and sitting beside her. He had seemed upset, and so she had told him to take her hand, trying to calm him.

"Good morning," she said. She wanted to sit up, but he still had a firm hold of her. "How are you?"

"Fine," he mumbled. Finally, he let go of her. He sighed and stood. She sat up. "Do you need anything?" he asked.

"Um. Yes. I'd like to take a shower and find some new clothes."

Erik seemed grateful to have a plan of action. He quickly nodded and checked the bathroom to make sure she had what she needed. He told her that he would find clothing. He left.

"All right then," she muttered to herself. She still felt like she was in a dream. Had the last several days really happened?

The warm water did feel wonderful. She grabbed a white washcloth along with a cheap bar of soap and scrubbed every inch of her body. Dust from the old factory gave the water at her feet a slightly brown shade. She stayed in there for at least twenty minutes. The towel that she used to dry herself was thin and skimpy. She wrapped it around her body and peeked out. There was a folded pile of clothes sitting on the sink counter. She picked them up and locked the door. A jean skirt. A yellow blouse. And some…lacy underwear.

She resisted thinking about how Erik had found this so quickly. She dressed, and everything fit. Christine went back out, her hair still soggy.

Erik stared at her from across the room. "I knew you would look lovely in that. The shirt matches your hair."

"Thank you," she said. She glanced at herself in the mirror. At least she was clean.

She turned back at him, her stomach churning. She had promised to marry him. So now what? Was she going to put on a show of being super cheerful, while hiding her feelings deep inside? _That sounded fun and healthy._

Or could she still be herself and go along with this? She wasn't sure as to what he even wanted, or what she was capable of.

"I found a dress that I liked," she said, breaking an awkward silence.

"Good. You shall have it." Yet Erik didn't sound that interested in discussing it further.

She took a slow seat on the bed. After several more moments, she asked, "What next? Are we marrying here? Or going to a new city first? Who's going to marry us?" She just had to take one step at a time, to not become overwhelmed.

Erik folded his hands together. "I want…I want to take you somewhere first."

"What do you mean?" She was disturbed until he said—

"Well, perhaps…perhaps I could…we could go to…see a movie."

Christine blinked and stared at him with disbelief. "You want to go to the movies?"

"Do you not wish to?"

"I'd…Well, of course I'll go to the movies with you."

"Excellent." His shoulders drooped with relief.

"What movie?" she asked.

He flipped his hand dismissively to the side. "I do not know. I don't care. You may decide."

"I don't even know what's playing." He didn't say anything. "But I can look it up."

"Yes. You should do this. Anything you like."

 _What was this? What was he doing now?_

 _One step at a time._ She looked up movies online and found a psychological drama. It sounded like the least uncomfortable show to watch with him, especially compared to the new Disney cartoon or the film about strippers.

"Perhaps dinner, too," he stated as she searched on the computer. "Takeout, of course."

"All right," she murmured. "That sounds fun."

After a moment of silence, she turned on the television. She left it on the news for a moment. To her relief, Raoul had been found, and he wasn't badly injured. The police were searching for her and Erik again, but they had few leads.

Erik became agitated, especially when the reporter referred to him as a criminal mastermind. Christine turned to a late nineties sitcom. She lay back, trying to feel some semblance of normalcy.

"I wish to see the dress you have chosen," he suddenly stated.

"Okay." Grabbing the laptop, Christine went back to the page she had favorited. The dress was a fit-and-flare white gown made of embroidered lace and satin that flowed outward like an upside down fountain. Strapless but with a higher neckline. "This one."

"Oh. You will be very lovely in that," he stated, softly, sadly. "I will purchase it immediately."

"Thank you." She scooted over, feeling a heaviness in her heart. "Do you want to watch television with me? We can watch something else." He seemed anxious. She wanted him to be calm. She needed him to be calm.

"I think I will step outside," he said. "Perhaps find you more clothing."

She reluctantly nodded. "All right."

He was like that the rest of the day. In and out. Unable to sit down and stay still. She remained in the room and attempted to piece her nerves back together, more confused than anything.

He took her to a theater that night. It was an older one with the basics - no enormous screens or reclining seats. There were about thirty other people at the show, most of them over the age of fifty. Erik snuck them both in without paying, and they sat in worn red seats at the back. Christine was worried that security would find them. No one noticed, though. Whenever she was with Erik, she seemed to become invisible with him.

Erik didn't appear to enjoy himself. He sat stiffly, his hands fidgeting as though this were the most boring and painful experience of his life. Christine watched him out of the corner of her eye, barely able to pay attention to the movie. It wasn't that exciting anyway. Finally, toward the middle, she reached down and took his hand. He flinched and glanced at her. She gave him a nervous smile. _Please calm down, Erik. Just let everything be okay. I can deal with all this if you calm down. If you don't calm down, I'm going to lose my mind._

She was also afraid that Erik was going to decide that he didn't want her and marriage and – _what was this? A date?_ What if he decided that he would rather have death and revenge?

What did he want? A house in the suburbs with a white fence and a dog? Trying to figure it all out was maddening.

She never remembered what the movie was about. Only that Matt Damon was upset about something. Erik was quiet the entire drive home.

Dinner was waiting in their room. Steak, mashed potatoes, and a side salad. She was actually hungry and dug into the Styrofoam containers. "Aren't you going to eat?" she asked, swallowing a cherry tomato with ranch dressing.

"Later." He turned away from her.

She shook her head. "Erik, you can show me your face and eat. It doesn't upset me. I'm fine. I want you to."

"I will eat later. I am not hungry. Enjoy your dinner."

"Are you okay?"

"Fine," he muttered.

"Do you want something?" He didn't answer. "Erik, you'll have to let me know. I'm trying to…"

"I don't want you to try," he stated. "I don't want an act."

She dropped her plastic fork. "But I'm not even faking it. I wanted to enjoy dinner and the movie. You've seemed unhappy this entire time. I've said I'll marry you. I'm trying to be okay with all this, but you're obviously not." Suddenly, she noticed a white plastic sack sitting in the chair across from her. "What is that?"

"Nothing."

He didn't stop her from reaching over and grabbing it. She pulled out the contents and stared at it. "You bought a volleyball?" She couldn't stop from laughing. "Oh my…"

"What is funny?" he snapped. He looked so upset.

"Erik, what are you doing? I don't understand what you're trying to do."

"I did these things before, and everything was fine. Why not now?!" He started to pace. "Why isn't this working? I need this to work. It must!"

"What do you mean you did them before? Sit down. Talk to me."

"In the other place, I did these things. And it worked with them."

"In SCI?" she softly asked. "You did these things in SCI? With other people?"

"It does not matter. It does not work here. Not with you."

"Will you tell me about it?"

"You will think it is ridiculous."

"No, I won't," she promised. "Erik, I've had dinner dates before. And gone to movies. And played volleyball. It's not ridiculous. It's -"

"It's _what?_ It's not something you wish to do with a freak like me? Only with handsome blond boys?"

"No! It's…" She shrugged. "It's just that…after everything that's happened, it feels like a strange jump to movies and volleyball. After yesterday, this feels a little weird. Anyway, I'm fine with it. Like I said, you're the one who doesn't seem happy with all this." He didn't say anything. "Please tell me about that place, about SCI. Tell me more about you. Maybe then I can understand."

He finally sat across from her. He didn't eat, and he didn't say anything. She picked up her fork and started to eat again, beginning to feel exhausted. But then - Erik slowly began to talk, and it was almost like he went into a trance. His eyes were distant, and his voice was nearly a monotone. He told her about Alice, about Ken and Corey and Leigh. SCI had made Erik younger. Even though he didn't say it, Christine assumed that they had also ridded him of his disfigurement. He had made friends there. He had interacted with them, watched movies with them, hiked with them.

He had been normal. SCI had made him normal.

"It sounds nice there," she said, slowly taking it in. He didn't say anything. "I'm glad you got to experience that." There was also something about it that bothered her, but she couldn't quite identify what that something was.

"Why won't it work here?" he asked. "Why isn't it right with you?"

At first, Christine was going to ask what he was talking about. Then it clicked. Erik was asking why he couldn't force everything to feel normal in the real world, with her.

"I don't know," she replied. But she thought - _Maybe because we've been through way too much._

But he answered his own question. "Music," he murmured. "I lost music there. They took that."

"Who did?"

"SCI. They took music from my mind. I could not compose."

"That doesn't sound good. Why would they do that?"

"I do not know. It does not matter. It only matters here." Erik suddenly sounded both excited and relieved. "That is why all this does not work. This movie. And this…All this. Music is essential. When we have that back, all will be fine again."

"I do miss it," she agreed. "There's nothing like singing and listening to you play the piano." She didn't think that would solve everything, though. "But you still need to tell me about yourself because-"

He interrupted, "I want to go back to the city. Before we marry."

"Isn't that dangerous?"

"Dangerous?" he softly asked with a chuckle. "I would not know. I do not know what is dangerous any longer. My mere existence is dangerous."

"Where will we go? Not the cottage?"

"No. No, that place is heavily guarded. It would perhaps be an adventure to run through the woods, evading police and federal agents, dodging bullets. Quite exciting. But, no, not an adventure for you. Only for Erik." He sounded disappointed.

She cracked a smile. He was so strange, unlike anyone else in the whole world, for better or worse. "Where are we going?"

"You will see. I think I have the perfect wedding gift for you."

"What is it?" she asked.

"A surprise."

Any surprise from Erik made her nervous. She hoped it didn't involve a bomb.

 _One step at a time._

He became less agitated after that decision was made. Christine didn't ask many questions as they drove into the night, back to traffic and the crowds of the city. Her heart beat a little faster any time she saw a police car or blue lights. As they approached unnoticed, though, Christine realized exactly where they were going. _But why?_

"My theater," she whispered as they arrived and parked against the sidewalk. "Our theater."

"They will not find us here. They think we are long gone. In fact, I sent a false phone signal for them to trace. From Atlanta. I hope they enjoy the heat and humidity."

Christine could only shake her head.

They entered the building. Yellow tape was up to keep people out during the demolition. Her old second home was completely abandoned but not destroyed yet. He took her down a set of stairs that she had mostly disregarded, figuring it was all just storage. In the deepest basement, in the darkness, there were doors that looked like walls and walls that looked like doors. There were deceptive mirrors and windows that led to new rooms. He had his own little labyrinth. To prevent her from running into anything, he gently guided her by the shoulder. Finally, Erik opened the door to a room that had a few dusty blue couches. "My God. You had your own little world down here," she said. She noticed the instrument in the corner. "That's a beautiful piano."

"I could be near you very often in this building," he said. "That was the best part." He watched as Christine set the items she had brought on a nearby table, including clothing he had given her. And the volleyball. "Why in the hell – why did you bring that?"

She held up the white ball. "I thought we could paint a face on him and name him. He can come to the wedding?"

Her joke died a quick death. Erik tilted his head. "What? Have you lost your mind?"

"Maybe." She gave him a sad half-smile. "Maybe we will have to rent a few movies."

Even with the terrifying promise, made in a moment of desperation and fear, Christine found that she was able to keep most of herself. She didn't even have to pretend or become a different person. Because…

Because she genuinely wanted him to have peace. In the abandoned factory, as Erik screamed threats and mentally disintegrated, she had finally understood the scope of his pain. She could feel the frantic agony oozing off of him, even more than she could feel the rage. It didn't excuse what he had done to her. She still wanted to scream at him, especially if she thought too hard about everything he had put her through. More than that, she wanted a goddamned apology. She'd probably never get one. He might never understand the scope of her trauma, how she'd probably never feel normal again after all this. He was too focused on his own pain to comprehend hers.

Despite everything, though, she cared about him. He was the smartest person she had ever met and the most talented musician. At times, he made her laugh. He made her see the world in new, if sometimes troubling, ways. She still believed that there had to be some fragment of good in him.

Because purely evil men didn't give up their murderous plots just to get married. They didn't try to go on awkward movie dates or buy volleyballs in a strange attempt to make her happy, to find normalcy. They didn't look so sad all the time, so hopeless.

She had made her promise, and she was going to keep it. She was going to marry him and be kind to him. It wasn't a lie when she softly said, "It's nice down here. Peaceful. I like it."

"Indeed," Erik murmured. He walked toward the piano. "We should start rehearsing as soon as possible."

"For what?"

"Your wedding gift."


	25. Chapter 25

I finally got this one out. Thank you for your patience. The good news is that the next chapter is half written. The bad news - Well, that'd be a spoiler, wouldn't it? But I'm pretty excited about the third and final part to this story. It has all the good kinds of angst ;)

A big thanks to Kelly for looking the chapter over and helping me get unstuck.

 **Read and Review!**

"My wedding gift is a song?" she asked. She should have expected that.

"I did write a song, and you will sing it. But that is not all. I do not want you to know the entirety of it yet."

"Why?"

"I simply…Not now. I want you to focus on your voice."

She reluctantly let the issue go and warmed up. To some extent, music did put everything in its proper place. The rich echo of the piano created a little cave of song. Christine relaxed her shoulders back, raised her head, and concentrated on her voice. The horrors of the previous days floated to the back of her mind, a nightmare from which she had partially awoken. The back of her subconscious still wanted to resist him, as it always had, but she tried to ignore it. What good would it do to make herself be miserable, to make herself hate him? That was a way to ensure that her future held nothing but unhappiness.

He allowed her to sing through her favorite golden oldies, as well as some classical pieces that they had practiced at the cottage. "Your voice has not suffered from disuse," he stated. "That is good. That I did not ruin it."

She looked up in surprise. "Ruin it?"

"Never mind," he murmured. Erik reached into a leather case that he had brought. "Here." He pulled out several pages of music. "It is a song I created for you weeks ago. My handwriting is rather unreadable, at least that is what the idiot Khan says. So I created a printout. Review it. Hum it. Then I will accompany you."

"And this is my gift?"

"A portion of it." Erik stood. "I do not have anywhere for you to sleep here. No beds, I mean. The couch is comfortable. But I can take you to a hotel, if you wish."

"The couch is fine." She didn't want to go running off to another hotel. Somehow, she felt safe down there. As though the rest of the world mattered less, and she could deal with her current situation without other people interfering and panicking. Erik disappeared for a second and then returned with a felt black blanket and a pillow. "Where will you sleep?" she asked.

"I am not tired. I may step out for a bit of air." Erik's voice was weary.

Her eyes widened. "What? You're leaving me down here?"

"You are safer here than out there."

"What if something happened to you? Would I die down here with no way to get out?"

Erik tilted his head and didn't answer. She sighed and sat down on the couch, not in the mood to argue. Nothing would happen to him. Erik suddenly dropped a phone on the cushion beside her. She started. "If I am not back in twenty-four hours, you may call," he said.

"Call who?"

"I think it is 9-1-1. I have never tried it myself, so they could be lying."

She laughed. "Thanks." She waited for a warning about calling too soon, about trying to escape. None came. Christine slowly lay down and stared at the ceiling. She heard Erik leave when the door clicked closed.

Was he still monitoring her somehow? Was this a trust test?

She fingered the edge of the phone for a second and then tossed it aside. What did it matter? She was done trying to escape. Christine closed her eyes and uneasily slept.

* * *

 _He_ had another phone that would ring if she used the one he had given her. It never rang that night. She did not try to flee from him. She kept her promise. She was a sweet and lovely girl.

He didn't know where he was going. He walked around the same blocks, down the same streets, past the same businesses and homeless people. The same hell it had always been. Now that he had Christine, the world seemed a little less wretched.

His own voice sounded in his head, and he could not be rid of it. He had threatened her, threatened to murder dozens of people in front of her, because of her. He had screamed at her, and now she was compliant.

He wanted more than that. He needed more than obedience. Recreating SCI had not helped. Music had to fix it. Music always fixed everything. He would give Christine this perfect wedding gift. Then she would love him. Then they would go away together and leave this city behind them.

 _She would forget what he had done to her…_

A chill came over him.

 _Music had to fix everything. Music would make her love him._

He glanced up and saw weeds and an empty lot. A memorial plaque with gold engravings. The abandoned stadium. This was where Christine had wished to put the new parking garage so that their theater remained standing. Her request had been denied. Yet why? The building sat rotting, an eyesore and a reminder of mankind's atrocities. Usually, human beings preferred to quickly demolish all evidence of their massacres. Why leave this one up?

While the matter was on his mind, he broke into an office, found a desktop computer, and did some investigating. The ownership records were not very private or protected. While he was rarely one to be surprised, with the exception of Christine's beautiful proposal, he was startled to see that SCI owned the abandoned stadium. Why would SCI own this property? Expansion hopes? Very odd.

He left it alone for now. He and Christine were leaving this city. What did it matter if the theater were destroyed? They would find a new theater. A better theater with life and hope still flourishing within it.

 _Where she loved him._

He started to leave the computer and then hesitated. There was one more thing he wanted to investigate before he left. One last curiosity. Perhaps if he tracked the Giry woman...

A desire for someone to not see him as a freak.

Not tonight. It was too late.

But later. Just for a second. A moment.

Then he could return to Christine. And be her freak forever and ever.

After all, Christine had promised.

To let him be her freak forever.

* * *

Erik didn't wake her up when he returned. Early in the morning, Christine opened her eyes and saw him sitting on the sofa across from her. One hand was curled and gripping the armrest, and he was staring forward with a strange glint in his eyes. She started to sit up and saying something but then thought better of it. Maybe he needed time to himself.

She went back to sleep. When she awoke, he was no longer there. It was a little cold. Christine slowly stood and walked around the room with the blanket over her shoulders, looking over Erik's former home. She had the feeling that this place represented him better than the cottage. There was electronic equipment, computers, wires, speakers, keyboards, and devices she didn't recognize. There were stacks of compositions. Manuals to various devices. She could sense whom he had been before her, immersed in music, technology, and things that she probably didn't want to know about. "It's so quiet here," she murmured when he finally appeared. "Maybe the quietest place I've ever been."

"Perfect, isn't it?" he asked. He didn't seem angry now. "No one to bother us."

"What is all that stuff?" she asked, gesturing toward the electronics.

"Various hobbies," he replied. She eyed him. "Programming is an art in itself. As is hacking."

He had brought her a sesame seed bagel and a cup of coffee for breakfast. She thanked him and ate most of it. Then they were back to singing. "We are going to focus on three pieces," he stated. "Your favorite. A classical piece. And the one that I have written for you."

"Why will we focus on those?"

"So that you excel in them."

"I don't understand."

"You will very soon. I want you to focus on your singing and nothing else for several days. Not why we are doing this. Not the wedding. Not the rest of the vile world. Only your voice. If you do so, I think you will be very pleased with the results."

She continued to find her voice, along with the exhilaration that came with singing. Her head felt clearer when she finished. She felt hopeful. _This_ is what she would always have with Erik. She remembered why, before the near disaster, she'd considered leaving with him in the first place. To experience this with him, the love of music, the need to continuously achieve more, to hear herself get better.

"That was successful," he stated when they were finished. "Now we simply need to find you something to wear."

"To wear? What are you going to do? Make me a YouTube sensation?" She was mostly joking.

"Something like that," he replied.

She swallowed nervously. "So you…other people are going to see me sing?" She fidgeted. "Is that safe?"

"I will make certain that it is. I want everyone to hear you and see you. You are now known as the kidnapped girl. People pity you. And that is my fault. You deserve to be known as much, much more. So I am fixing it."

"Then that's my gift? People hearing me sing?"

"Yes. But it will be more elaborate than that. You will shine, and everyone will appreciate you."

Christine didn't know what she thought of that. Overwhelmed, maybe. But she wouldn't stop it from happening. Wasn't it what she had always wanted? To sing for others?

They rehearsed the rest of the day, taking breaks occasionally so that she could eat or get some exercise. Erik showed her the rest of the theater, the crevices where he had hidden. She could see the stage from high up, near the lighting. The offices where management had worked. The basements filled with old props and costumes, some of which looked decades old. She sneezed often from the dust, and her hands felt dirty. Still – "I really missed this place. I'm glad we got to see it one last time. Before it's destroyed."

"It is a pity that we could not rescue it," said Erik. "But we are leaving, so what does it matter?"

"Yes," she sadly agreed.

Erik was kind to her all throughout that day. Outside of her voice lessons, he was fairly undemanding. He was…nearly nice. "I suppose you can sleep now," he said after the last lesson of the day. He stared slightly to the side of her, as though he were avoiding looking at her. "You will be ready soon, so we will not be here for too much longer. Then you can have a bed again."

"I'll be okay. Your couch is comfy." She started to lie down, watching him as he stacked some music together. His eyes looked troubled and distant, and she wondered what was on his mind now. Would he never be happy? "Erik, come sit beside me," she said, pushing herself upright again. She made room on the sofa.

He looked over his shoulder at her. "Why?"

"Let's…hang out and talk a little. I want to know more about you."

"You don't want to know more about me, I assure you."

She shook her head. "If we're going to be married, I want to know about you. Sit beside me." She gently bribed him, "We can hold hands."

He hesitated, sighed, and then stiffly did so. As soon as he was beside her, Christine took his hand. He shuddered. She gently stroked her thumb over his cold skin. Erik looked paralyzed.

"You said that you raised yourself," she began. "Did you mean that literally?"

"Yes."

"You didn't have a foster family or anything like that?"

"I wisely ran from any sign of social services."

"How did you survive? How did you eat?"

"Every day was a new adventure. Where to hide? How to feed myself? There were garbage bins, of course. And people would pay me for strange little favors. Eventually, I learned to steal wallets and break into cars. Soon, I was hired to do so. I had skinny hands, and I was quite fast. I could break into anything. Homes. Businesses." He paused. "I only had one close call. I made a bit too much noise while in someone's basement, stealing their television. An elderly man came down with a shotgun raised."

"Oh my God," Christine murmured. "What happened?"

"Isn't it obvious? He shot me in the face." Before Christine could freak out, Erik continued, "I am kidding. Just kidding, darling. The man lowered the gun and asked, 'What are you? Ten?' I ran away and was much more careful after that."

She listened without judgment, knowing that most of Erik's past was clouded with darkness. There was no normal when it came to Erik. "What about school?"

"I broke into libraries, too. And universities. There is nothing in school that cannot be learned by simply reading. I taught myself everything. And I think I was successful. Years ago, I used a falsified identification to take a college entrance exam. For the fun of it. To see how I would do."

"What'd you get?"

"A perfect score. But I knew university was no place for me. Dorms and fraternities and football games? I would sooner gouge at an eye."

"But you had such-"

"What? Potential?" he asked with bitterness. "I despise that word. Khan uses it all the time." Erik mocked Nadir. "'Ah, Erik. Why can't you have a normal career? You have such potential!' As though I could simply walk into some stuffy office building with a resume. As though that is even a possibility."

"But you wouldn't want to work in an office, would you?" she asked. "Even if…if everything were normal?"

"If everything were normal, I would not exist."

"Maybe not," she murmured. Now probably wasn't the right time for an existential conversation. "How'd you learn music?"

"When I was nine, I hid in a church, living in the back rooms and basement. Ironic, yes? For me to be in a church? It had an organ and a piano. I amused myself for hours and hours. Then, when I had more money, I purchased my own."

"Wow. You taught yourself everything." Next came the harder questions. "What did you do for money when you were older?"

"I became even more useful to many people."

"By doing what?"

He subtly leaned away from her. "What do you think, Christine? What could I do in this sort of world?"

She shifted on the cushions. "Illegal things." He didn't reply. "But you quit before meeting me, before coming down here?"

"I quit the worst of my activities, the ones that would chill your blood."

"Why'd you quit?" She tried to get him to meet her gaze, but he kept his eyes lowered.

Erik shrugged. "I was very tired. Of constantly running and being shot at. I wanted to rest for once in my life. I had enough skills to not need to do that any longer. And I…"

She squeezed his hand. "You what?"

"My employer introduced me to the pills. They made it much easier to work. They made me faster. They destroyed all fear. But I was also losing my mind."

"And so you just quit the pills and your…job?"

"Eventually…" There was an eeriness to his answer.

"What do you mean by that?"

"I mean that it is not a simple thing to tell your _employer_ you are finished doing what no one else can do for him."

Christine shifted. "What did he do?" she nearly whispered.

"I will not break your mind with that story. I won't. But, after it was over, I did not leave for another year."

Christine inwardly shuddered. Maybe Erik had been less intimidating back then. Or more easily intimidated by other people. Still, whatever his employer had done must have been horrible. To scare Erik, of all people, that much. "But at least you eventually got away," she said, her voice gaining strength. "You did it somehow. You got away."

"Yes. But what did it matter? I was nothing more than a theater-dwelling freak. A spider. Who caught you in his web."

She took a shaky breath and rested her cheek against his shoulder. "Erik…"

"Why are you doing this?" he asked. "I don't require you to know about me."

"That's what people tend to do when they're marrying. Get to know each other."

"So you feel obligated to know me? Because of your promise."

"Don't make everything seem so dark and ulterior. I want to know you. You're very interesting. Probably the most interesting person I've ever met. Definitely the most interesting person I've ever met."

"Only because everyone else is very dull," he replied. She laughed. "Except for you."

"I don't know about that." Before all of this had happened, she'd felt pretty boring.

"You are the loveliest, most interesting human being on earth. And we must find you a dress."

"For the wedding?" she softly asked.

"No. Your performance."

"Will it be live?"

"Not quite. Too risky."

"I thought you liked taking risks," she teased.

"Not if it means that a SWAT team interrupts your performance."

"I could sing _I Fought the Law_ to make it all come together."

Erik turned his head so that his masked face was nearer to her hair. "I have been a terrible influence," he murmured. He might have meant to be joking. Considering the conversation, he should have been joking. But he sounded sincere and sad.

Hearing the pain in his voice, she didn't know what to say. The reassurance that he hadn't done any psychological harm to her was too much of a lie. She was still very upset about all he had put her through. She didn't want him to believe that everything was quite okay. She still wanted her apology.

Yet, in the coming months, when the pain really set in, she would wish that she had said something, offered a little comfort, anything. Anything but the silence that followed. Silence that confirmed to him – _Yes, you have been a terrible influence. You've ruined my life. I hate you._

He stood up, and she released his hand. He disappeared for a while. She slept.

* * *

Alice knew that it was time to go home. She had done what she could, which wasn't much. She was tired, sad, and ready to leave.

At least Raoul was alive and no one else had died. There was initially panic when the government building and surrounding structures had all been evacuated, but no one had been hurt. It certainly hadn't helped Erik's case, but maybe nothing would at this point. Disgusted by most of what she had heard at the legislative meeting, Alice knew that none of the officials could be convinced. If Erik were ever to go back to SCI, it would have to be in secret. But how would that happen?

Maybe it didn't matter. Erik had taken Christine and was probably never coming back.

At the hotel, Corey and Gabby helped her pack. They were all quiet, discouraged, and exhausted. Nadir came by once. She could tell that he was distracted by something. "What will you do now?" she asked him.

"I don't know," Nadir replied, taking a seat on the edge of the bed. Corey and Gabby had stepped out to put things in the car. Nadir paused and looked at her. "You…don't know anything about Hope Ivey, do you?"

Alice thought back. "No. Only that she was Erik's mentor. Then she disappeared and hasn't been much help. Why?"

"Nothing," said Nadir. "Just trying to put everything together."

"Where do you think they went?" Alice asked.

" _Hope?"_

"No," said Alice, still wondering why he was on edge. "Erik. And Christine."

"Oh. I don't know. There was a clue indicating that they might have gone to Atlanta. But it's probably one of Erik's tricks. It most definitely is." Alice shook her head. "There's little that can be done now. Thank you for trying to help."

"I wish I could have been more help."

"You did your best. All of us have."

"You're going to keep working on it?" Alice hopefully asked.

"If I can. I don't think I'll get a good night's sleep until I find them. Which means I'll probably never sleep again."

Nadir left soon after. Alice sensed that more was going on than he was telling her. She didn't pry, though. This was likely the end of her adventure.

Gabby asked her if there was anything else she'd like to do during her last night in the real world. Alice hesitated and then picked a last meal of fettuccine alfredo and tiramisu at a nearby Italian restaurant. After all, SCI had never mastered food. She enjoyed dinner, and they talked about everything but Erik.

"What should we tell Ken and Leigh? About why we were gone." Corey asked at one point. "That you had family issues?"

"That sounds good," Alice replied. "I'll say I had a death in the family. They don't need to know about all this. What good would it do? They've all been through enough." Even as she said it, though, there was something about the statement that bothered her. Was SCI supposed to shelter people from the harsher realities of life?

When they got back to the hotel, it was fairly late. Gabby parked. Once they were out of the vehicle, Corey wheeled Alice toward the sliding front doors. Cooler air swept against her face. The seasons were more pronounced here than in SCI, which had a climate closer to that of Southern California.

Alice looked up. She blinked and stared at the sidewalk corner near the entrance to the parking lot. At first, she thought that she was seeing a mechanical device that had two yellow lights on it. A tall device. The lights blinked every so often. Maybe an electrical structure? Her brain couldn't make sense of it.

But then…then she didn't think it was a mechanical device. Her heart beat a little faster in her chest. She swallowed and felt her throat tighten as the silhouette began to make more sense. Yet her first instinct wasn't to scream or panic. She said, "Could you give me a couple of minutes alone out here?"

Corey and Gabby abruptly glanced at her. "Are you okay?" asked Gabby.

"Yeah. I need a moment with my thoughts and some fresh air. It's all been a lot to take in, you know?" She hoped they couldn't hear the tremor in her voice.

"Sure," said Corey. "I get it. Uh, I guess I'll come back in twenty minutes?" He wheeled her toward a bench that was surrounded by some shrubs and yellow flowers, a hasty attempt at landscaping.

"That's good. Thank you." Gabby was still looking at her with some concern. "I'll be fine. Just need a moment."

They both left, only glancing back one time before going through the doors.

Alice didn't move. Somehow, she knew that it was _him_. She could only stare - curious and afraid. What the heck was he doing here? He didn't budge either. If she didn't take advantage of this eerie moment, she would regret it. Finally, with a deep breath, Alice called out, "You can come back! We'll help you. I promise we'll help you." She didn't want to say his name and risk his life. Yet if she could only make him listen…

The shadow heightened and stiffened. "You do not know anything," he stated, his voice sounding as though it were right next to her ear. Alice blinked in surprise. No words could describe it. If God himself had suddenly broken through the clouds and spoken down to her, Alice imagined that He might have a voice like that. "I belong here now. Not in that ridiculous false world. I belong with Christine."

Alice glanced down. "What...what exactly are you doing with her?"

" _Doing_ with her? What exactly are you implying? I am making her happy! She is perfectly fine! We belong here together. We are marrying. She asked me to marry her."

Alice didn't know what to say about that. She didn't understand, but she suspected that Erik wasn't quite telling the truth. She could sense his instability, that all wasn't well with his mind. She gently offered again, "We'll help you. We'll find a way to get you back into SCI. Erik, you _kidnapped_ a woman. Don't you understand how wrong that is? How messed up that is? But I can-"

"She is fine! And you are just like the rest of them, aren't you?!" Erik rasped. "You think of me as a freak. Out here, I am nothing but a freak to everyone."

Alice kept trying. "We can help you if you come back. SCI can make you feel okay again. Remember the fun we had? The hikes? We can finish watching _Jurassic Park_ and eating lasagna. We can-"

"I will not go back there!" Erik hissed. Alice recoiled. " _You_ belong there! I do not. Erik does not! So go back home, little Alice. You are too weak for this world. Look at you. I am not too weak. I can survive here. With her. So go home, Alice. Go home. Look at you! I could snap you in half with one hand. You do not know me. You know nothing!"

She took a breath, shaken by his cruelty. "You're right," she finally said. "I don't know you. Men like you are the reason I used to carry pepper spray. Maybe I don't want to know you."

"If you think pepper spray will have any sort of effect, then you do _not_ know me. You are just like the rest of them. You think I am a freak. You don't want me to exist here."

"I've been here this whole time trying to help you," she replied. "Even after all you've done, I'm trying to help you."

"You cannot help me," snapped Erik, taking a step backward. His hands clenched and unclenched. His shadow nearly seemed to vibrate. "Go home, Alice. Go home now. This was a mistake. I...This was a grave mistake. And you had better not say anything to anyone about this conversation. Or there will be severe consequences! Do you understand me? You will regret it!" He disappeared in an instant, blending in with the shadows of the night. As though he'd never been there at all.

Against her better judgement, Alice never told anyone. She cried for about a minute and then quickly wiped the tears away. When Corey returned, she only said that she was ready for bed. She didn't say much to anyone the rest of the night.

Maybe she felt that it was all hopeless anyway. Even if she said something, the police would never find Erik. He was too cunning for them.

Or was she still holding onto some terribly misplaced loyalty to Erik, the Erik that Alice had once known? The nice Erik. The repaired Erik. She probably was.

Erik corrupted everything that he touched.

 _Was there any good in the real Erik?_

 _I don't care. I'm done. I am so done._

In the morning, Alice went home, back to SCI, without a word.


	26. Chapter 26

I decided to divide this chapter into two shorter ones. I'll try to have the second part posted by the weekend. After that, there is one more chapter to this segment. As in, if this were a television show, Chapter 28 would be the season finale. The next part is the final part to this story and will probably run 10-12 chapters. Thank you for your continuous support, despite all the delays.

 **Read and Review!**

When Erik returned that night, she pretended to be asleep. After a couple of minutes, she barely opened her eyes. There was enough light from a nearby lamp for her to see. He was kneeling on the floor near the piano. His mask lay beside him. His face was in his hands. It didn't look like he was crying. His shoulders weren't shaking, and he was still.

She closed her eyes again, feeling a tremor near her heart, a desire to reach out. That was her first instinct – to feel terrible for him. It was her brain that tried to protest. _Let him feel bad for all he's done. He deserves to feel bad._ But her chest still ached, leaving her brain to finally shut down and go back to sleep.

In the morning, Erik seemed fine again. After fetching her a ham and egg breakfast sandwich, he asked her if she was ready to begin her lessons. She agreed. They practiced for many more hours. She didn't even know when the morning ended and the afternoon began. She pushed thoughts of the future and of the past from her head. She focused on the moment, the song, measure, the note. More than being happy by her progress, Erik almost seemed relieved, as though he were afraid that he had broken her. She chose not to be broken.

She had soon nearly mastered the classical piece, an aria from "The Tender Land," along with her oldies piece, "Unchained Melody." Erik's piece was the most challenging. She didn't even know how to classify it, as a ballad or a folksong, classical or modern. The lyrics were unexpected, something about staring at the ocean. "I changed all of them," he explained, perhaps noticing her expression when she read over the words a third time. "It was a love song. Now they are about serenity. I thought you would enjoy that theme more. Calmness."

The lyrics seemed more sad than serene to her. Like a plea, but not for love. More like a plea for peace. Maybe? In any case, the song made her uncomfortable. Still, she tried to master it as Erik continued with his corrections. The lyrics were haunting. _The embrace of the black sky…The frigid kiss of the sea…._

"I think you are nearly ready," he told her a day or two later. "Of course, I would like to prepare you a bit longer, but we cannot stay here forever. There are too many idiots with guns running around above us." She had been so immersed in music that she barely remembered anything else. Like the police who were searching for them. And Raoul, who was probably going insane with worry. It was easier to not think too much. "Tomorrow, we will begin the next step," Erik said. "Then we will leave this city, yes? And marry?"

She nodded and took a seat on the sofa. She watched as he stacked music together. The blackness of his suit jacket. The white of his shirt collar brushing against his pale neck. The oddest urge came to her from out of nowhere. She didn't have time to suppress it before it invaded her consciousness. _I want to touch him._

Erik looked at her. "Is something wrong?" he asked.

"No," she whispered, sharply glancing away. She felt warmth in her face. "I'm fine."

He turned back to the music. She felt so confused that she wanted to cry. Given her promise to Erik, her life sentence, wouldn't it be better for her to feel _that_ way? And yet - she felt like she was surrendering to a horribly unfair situation. She was still furious. But…that wasn't all she felt sometimes.

 _I'm so tired. What I want more than anything is to hide from the entire world and take a week long nap. Then maybe I can figure out everything._

Of course, she could never hide from Erik.

They went on another walk that night. She needed some fresh air, and Erik was obviously restless. She took his hand, entwining their fingers together. They stayed in the alleys and shadows, which gave them a tour of the city's giant metal dumpsters.

"Erik, how did you meet Nadir?" she asked toward the end.

"That idiot? I assisted him on a case."

"What kind of case?"

"What does it matter? We had a mutually beneficial relationship. Mostly. When he wasn't being a complete nuisance."

"But why would you help him in the first place?" she pressed.

Erik waved his free hand dismissively to the side. "I knew of human trafficking. It was a particularly vile operation involving children."

"And you told him about it so that he could stop it?"

A hesitation. "Yes."

She looked up at him. "Erik, that's a wonderful thing. Why wouldn't you want to tell me about it?"

His shoulders hunched slightly. "I simply do not talk about those times."

"I'm proud of you for doing that."

Erik stopped walking and stared down at her. He froze. His eyes looked strange, as though he had realized something horrible. "Do not say that," he commanded, his voice low and soft. "That is the last thing you should ever say."

"Why?"

He started walking again, forcing her along. "Let's go home now. We need to prepare."

Why did he hate praise? Why did he hate any acknowledgement that he wasn't a bad person?

She shrugged and returned to the theater with him, back to the fog of glorious music.

A fog that hid everything.

* * *

In the early afternoon of the next day, Erik displayed several dresses and asked her to choose. A long lavender one made of satin. A shorter red one that caused her to blush. She chose a glossy midnight blue dress with straps and a hem that came down past her knees. The bottom flared out slightly. Rhinestones decorated the area near her chest. She wore blue high heels to match and a necklace with tiny pearls. Nylons. Pink lipstick. Blush. She thoroughly brushed her hair, but Erik mourned that she could not have it professionally styled.

"Someday," he stated. "Someday you will have everything you deserve. You will be a star."

She gazed at herself in a full-length mirror that Erik had bought only for her. "I think this is good enough." She barely recognized herself. But not in a bad way. She had never been so dressed up before, so glamorous.

Next came the electronics. Erik brought out a microphone, an expensive camera on a tripod, and two high-powered laptops. He adjusted several standing lamps around her, taking his time so that everything was perfect. "May I fix your hair?" he softly asked, keeping his eyes lowered.

"Sure," she murmured. Her heart beat quickly. She didn't get angry when his hand lingered in her tresses a bit too long. She took a deep breath. Her skin was flushed.

He switched on the camera and the microphone. "Say something," he said.

"Um." She brushed her hair out of her face and nervously began, "Hi. I'm Christine. And this is really awkward. One, two, three. Ask not what your country can do for you. Uh."

Erik chuckled. "That is enough, I think. You sound delightful."

While she felt a little terrified, there was also something exhilarating about this process. As though this was where she should be. As though life had purposefully brought her to this moment. And it wasn't all a big traumatic mistake.

Erik cleared all of the furniture out of the space behind her, so that it was only her against a greyish wall. They had warmed up that morning, and she had sung her three pieces one last time. At least this wasn't live, so it wouldn't be the end of the world if she messed up a couple times. Her mouth felt dry.

"Are you nearly ready?" Erik asked. His voice was gentle.

She took a deep breath and nodded, licking her lips to moisten them.

"Begin when you wish."

She sang "Unchained Melody" first. She knew that one by heart. The song was like an old friend, and the delivery was easy. Singing it made her feel warm inside.

Then came the classical piece. It was a little less familiar. She probably felt the most detached from that one, but the aria showcased her voice in a specific way. A way that talent scouts might enjoy. Christine could now make the claim: _I am a good singer!_

Erik's piece still made her the most nervous. Curling her hands near her heart, she began that one a little more softly than she meant to. Erik make an upward motion with his hand, encouraging her to increase in volume. It took a few lines for her voice to grow into the song until she finally felt comfortable with it. Before she could stop them, tears were streaming down her cheeks. She stared up at the basement ceiling when she finished, tasting a saltiness on her tongue. Her voice sounded vulnerable yet strong.

Yet, even as she nearly mastered the song, Christine heard something in the lyrics that disturbed her subconscious. At that moment, she couldn't quite define _it_. Or maybe she didn't want to. Maybe the _it_ was too familiar to her, a fresh wound. Maybe _it_ was too horrible to contemplate.

Christine didn't want to look at Erik when she finished. She felt too emotional, almost embarrassed. Slowly, she did. Erik had already turned off the camera. He stared at her. "That was nearly perfect," he whispered. "Everyone will love you as I do. I do not know if I want them to. But they will. And you will only continue to improve."

Exhausted, Christine walked away from the microphone and took a seat on the sofa. She wiped the tears away. A minute ticked by before she could speak again. "What are you going to do with the tape?"

"That is the final surprise. Near sunset, I will leave for several hours to prepare everything. And then you will see. Everyone will see."

She asked, "But if this is going to make me more well-known, won't that make the world more dangerous for us?"

"If we go to a different country, no one will care."

He didn't sound very worried. Erik wanted this for her, no matter the consequences. When he went out that evening, she barely left the sofa, wondering what was coming next.

It was nearly nine when he returned. Erik had bought her a club sandwich, and she ate a quarter of it, too nervous to be hungry. After she finished, he said that it was time to leave for the final phase of the gift. She followed him out of the theater. The air was very cool now. Fortunately, she had changed out of the dress and into jeans and a jacket.

They had a fifteen minute drive. He parked near a multistory brick building that appeared abandoned. Erik must have seen her hesitation as she stared up at it. "No," he quickly said. "No, I will not do anything terrible to you in there. Not like last time. I promise you. You will like this. Do not be afraid." Christine warily nodded, stepped out of the car, and followed him up several flights of concrete stairs. Once they were near the top, she went with him to the other side and looked down through a dusty window. People walked below, both groups and couples. Christine realized they were near an area of the city that had a lot of the bars and nightlife.

"Are you ready?" Erik asked. She nodded. He had a small black device in his hand, and he pushed a button on it.

They waited, staring out the window. Her heart beat wildly in her chest. Her mouth popped open as the building wall across the street lit up. Suddenly, she saw a giant version of herself. A giant beautiful version of herself. Erik had projected her video onto the building. Her voice suddenly rang out into the night, so that she could even hear it through the glass. For being projected onto bricks, the image was shockingly clear, nearly like a movie on a screen.

"Oh my God," she whispered. Her face turned red. "Erik-"

"And not just here," said Erik. "Of course not. Throughout the entire city. Wherever many people gather. Everyone will see you everywhere. You are everywhere!"

"It's kind of…Um. Oh my."

"No, do not be embarrassed. Listen to yourself!"

She did. She sounded…really, really good.

People stopped walking below and turned to gape at the image. She realized it was a Saturday night, and everyone was out having fun. Now they were watching and murmuring to one another. She couldn't hear what they were saying. She knew that they were partly shocked because she was the 'kidnapped girl.' But that wasn't all. They could finally see her as something else, something more.

"Look," said Erik. She turned. On the laptop, he showed her every location where people could view her. City hall. The business district. Near a movie theater. Everyone had stopped to watch. There was some panic. People were probably calling 9-1-1. Sure enough, a couple of police cars arrived in two of the locations. No one knew what to do. It was chaos. Fun chaos. Erik had created something that was kind of fabulous.

Her voice rang into the night. People swayed to the first two songs, hypnotized. They nearly leaned forward when she sang the third song, as though trying to understand its meaning. Some people applauded at the end. Most of them only stared as though they had seen a ghost.

When the video ended, Christine felt almost giddy. Then - uncertain. What if they thought she was an awful singer? Maybe it didn't matter. At least she had tried. She had done her best. That was all she could ever do. At least she wasn't hiding away in the bedroom of her mother's cluttered house. Or hiding behind her wonderful boyfriend as she gave up her dreams of singing...

" _That_ was your wedding gift," stated Erik, breaking into her thoughts. "Did you like it?"

"Yes," she replied, turning to him with a genuine smile. "Thank you. That was amazing!"

He studied her for a moment, appearing to want to say something meaningful. Finally, he turned away and said, "We can return to the theater now. The show is over. There will be authorities everywhere soon, looking for you."

She silently followed him out of the building and back to car. In the distance, she could hear voices –

"What the hell was that?"

"Is this all a publicity stunt?"

"She's kind of hot."

Erik heard that last one, and his head snapped up.

"It's all right," said Christine. "Maybe he meant that I was sweaty."

"I do not think he did, my dear. But, for you, I will not kill him. Only for you…"

The drive home was nearly silent, although she could feel Erik glancing at her. Her mind was wrapped up in her performance, wondering what everyone else thought, wondering if she had been good enough. When they got back to the theater basement, Erik showed her a few of the news reports online.

The comments from reporters were generally positive. - "Amazing voice. Beautiful girl. That last song was fascinating. What a unique piece of art. Who wrote it? What a strange spectacle. Where did she go? How did this happen?"

She laughed at it all. "That was amazing," she said. She twirled around. "That was so weird, but it was amazing. Thank you!" She felt a rush of adrenaline in her heart and stomach. And she also felt lighter than she had in some time. She felt more alive. Not like a depressed shell with a dead mother and father. Not directionless. Not like a victim.

She fell back onto his sofa, a grin on her face. "Everyone looked so shocked. And I sounded good! I actually sounded great! I never thought I could sound like that."

"Yes," he murmured. "Of course you did." Erik stood above her. She couldn't read his eyes.

"And they loved your song, too!"

"Yes."

"Anyway," she continued. "That was so cool."

Finally, he took a step toward her. "It is enough, yes?" he softly asked. "It is enough?"

"Enough for what?" she asked, blinking up at him. "It's wonderful. It's a wonderful gift! Thank you, Erik!"

"But it is enough, isn't it?" He didn't sound very happy. He sounded panicked.

"What do you mean? Enough for what? It's a great debut, if that's what you mean? I don't understand."

Her words weren't enough for him. "But you _want_ to marry me now, yes? You want to now, right?"

She paused and slowly sat up. The feelings of joy faded away. "Erik, I've told you that I'll marry you. You don't have to worry about that."

He thrust his hands out at her. "But you _want_ to now? You want to marry me!"

"I'll keep my promise to you. We'll be fine. What does this have to do with me singing?"

"But I want you to _want_ to!" he nearly hollered. She leaned back, confused and a little terrified. "Look at me. Look me in the eye." She did so. He stared directly into her eyes. He moaned. She flinched. "It is still the same," he said, his voice collapsing. "When you look at me, it is all still the same. Why can't you love me? What do you want? Do you want money? Is that it? A mansion? Designer clothes? Jewelry? Vacations in the tropics? What do you want? What can I give you?"

"Erik, I don't understand what's wrong. I'm fine. Everything is fine." She put her hand against her forehead. _Why was he losing his mind now?_ Everything had been great minutes ago.

"I want you to love me! Why won't you? What else can I give you?"

"Erik…"

" _What do you want!?"_

"Please! I can't…"

" _What will it take, Christine? What do you want?!"_

She squeezed her eyes closed as he unraveled, wishing that even she knew the answer to that question.

Yet, it wasn't a question. It was a demand.

And she realized that he now _knew_ the horrid truth. He couldn't hide from it any longer, try as he might.

Erik could demand that she stay with him, go with him, marry him, and never leave his sight. He could force her to obey those demands using a variety of means.

Yet…he couldn't force her love him. No matter how much he threatened or bribed her, how loudly he screamed, he couldn't force love. That power would remain forever hers.

She had never wanted the power to destroy anyone. She had never asked for it. She hated it.

She hated that she could hurt someone so much.

She hated the agony in his eyes.

That was the night she kissed him.

And nearly killed him.


	27. Chapter 27

**_Here we are. The inevitable…_**

 _"What do you want!?"_ Erik screamed it at her again and again. His beautiful voice was a broken, strangled mess. _"What do you want?! What do you want?!"_

She looked down and swallowed. Tears pricked the corners of her eyes. "Erik. It's been a lot…" She tried one last time to calm him, to not go to a place where they would never be able to leave. "But I said I'd marry you and-"

"I don't want you like that!" he snapped. "Not as a hostage. Why won't you look at me with love?"

"Because…because I have been a hostage. You've done a lot to me," she murmured. Honesty hovered at the tip of her lips.

"But why won't you - what do I have to do? What? What do I have to give you to make you want me?"

"Erik, it'll take time. Because you…because you kidnapped me. And threatened me. And hurt my friend. You have done some very terrible things. I need time. Can't you understand that?"

"But I cannot do anything else! I cannot make it all not true! I cannot fix it!" His voice grew more and more frantic. "I cannot undo it all now! What do you want me to do?!"

"Erik, if someone did those all things to you, wouldn't you be angry, too? Wouldn't you need time to get past it?"

He immediately stopped moving when she said that. He became completely still. His hands dropped to his sides. And the look in his eyes led her to believe that, in one way or another, someone _had_ done those things to him. Her heart forever ached. She stared off to the side, wondering what other horrible threads were woven into his past. She looked back at him. He was still frozen, trapped within himself, trapped with himself. She wished that she could free him. She wished that she could free them both.

"Come here," she said, gesturing toward him, done hurting him. She had only wanted sympathy. Instead, she had paralyzed him. "Sit beside me. Tonight's been crazy. Let's sit here and try to relax. It doesn't have to be figured out tonight. Can't we enjoy what we created together?"

He awoke from his stupor and resisted. "Why?" he asked, his voice quieter. "Why would you want to sit beside a freak? Because I am a wretched freak, aren't I? A disgusting, monstrous, vile freak." His hands trembled.

"You're not! You're not any of those things. You're Erik. A man named Erik. Please sit down. It's going to be okay. Sit with me."

He finally did so, taking a heavy seat on the cushions. Somewhat relieved, she immediately grabbed his hand. She clutched it tightly. They sat in the silence. He finally looked at her. "What will it take?" he asked with no anger. "What in the Devil's name will it take?"

She bit her bottom lip. Nothing she said was going to be right. She wasn't going to lie. She didn't even know the truth. She barely understood anything. Words weren't right. Words confused and hurt people.

But there was so much more to life than words, wasn't there?

She gently took her hand back. Slowly, so as not to frighten him, she put an arm around his neck and shoulders. She gently pulled. "Lie here with me. We don't have to figure it out right now." She took her other arm and wrapped it around the front of him. Christine reclined onto the soft arm of the sofa, pulling him downwards with her. "Lie here with me," she pled.

"No. You don't have to," he whispered, pulling back.

"I want to," she murmured.

"Why would you do that? Isn't it disgusting?"

"It isn't at all. Lie here with me."

His breathing was fast and panicked. "You do not have to do this. You do not have to touch me."

"I want to. We need to have some touch, if we're going to be married. Touch isn't bad, Erik. Not if it's wanted by everyone."

A choked sound was her only response. She cradled him tightly, finding comfort in the feeling of his body pressed against hers. He finally relaxed his muscles. He was too tall to completely fit on the couch, but he leaned down so that his torso was beside her, in front of her. Her arms were over the front of him. Their heads were beside each other. Shaky breaths escaped her lips. His breathing sounded muffled, as though he couldn't breathe.

Her fingers reached up to pry at his mask. He started to move away. "It's okay," she said. "Let me."

"But I am repulsive, and you are very near to my hideous head."

"You are not hideous." She finally pulled the mask off and set it on the armrest behind her. Before he could escape, she again grabbed on tightly. Leaning forward, she kissed his left cheek and the corner of his forehead. He gasped and stilled. She gave him another kiss on the forehead. "It's okay," she murmured. He turned his head to stare at her, and their eyes met. "We're okay, Erik." She felt a weight leave her shoulders. Her throat grew less tight. She felt catharsis. His body rested in her arms, defeated yet peaceful. She could hear his breathing slow down.

It all felt…good. It felt right, as though it were supposed to be this way. She felt warmth. Calmness. Strength. A tearful smile formed on her lips. Everything was going to be okay. If he would just…bend a little. Understand a little. Let go a little. She could give back. She really, really could. She gave him another kiss on his cold, dry cheek. He gazed up at her, unmoving, helpless. After a second's hesitation, she leaned down and finally kissed his lips. He didn't return the affection, even as she tried to move her mouth against his. When she drew back, his eyes almost looked as though she had hurt him. Maybe she had. "Are you okay?" she whispered.

His lips formed the word "Yes" but she couldn't hear his voice.

She sighed and tucked her face into the back of his neck. He smelled of the outdoors and the nighttime, of winter. She breathed into his ear, and he shuddered. She could hear his breath and see the pulse in his neck. Not another word was uttered between them. Words were useless now.

It took some time, but she fell asleep with him in her arms. A dreamless sleep. A secure sleep. Christine awoke once, and Erik was still there. She raised her head and bent to look at his face. His eyes were still open. She gave him another kiss on the cheek. He visibly swallowed. With her cheek resting against his back, she slept once more.

The second time she awoke, he was gone. Her arms felt cold and empty. She pushed herself up and looked around the room. Erik was standing by the piano. The mask was replaced. He was staring at the floor.

"What time is it?" she asked.

"Five-thirty," he replied without looking at anything.

"Oh. Good morning then," she said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. She nervously smiled. "How are you?"

"Perfectly fine, thank you." There was a crisp edge to his voice.

Her smile disappeared. She was disappointed that the tenderness of the night hadn't thawed him a little bit. They had kissed after all. Or she had kissed him. Eventually, maybe she would get him to relax. "Are we leaving soon?" she asked, keeping her voice strong.

"Yes, we are, Darling. But…I have one last gift for you. I think you will like it even better than the other." He still wouldn't look at her.

"I don't know if anything could top that," she said, giving him a half-smile. "But let's see."

"Indeed. Let us see. Dress and ready yourself."

She went into a closet and put on fresh jeans and a purple peasant top. She was a little hurt by his demeanor this morning, after she had opened up so much to him. Only time could heal them, though. A kiss couldn't fix everything.

"You look lovely," said Erik when she emerged.

"I could have used a shower." Her hair felt greasy.

"You will have one soon, I imagine." There was something strange about his tone.

They went up the stairs, out the doors, and walked silently through the early morning. He stayed too far away for Christine to take his hand. In every way, Erik was distant. Last night actually seemed to have made him worse. Now, she was even more bewildered.

Few people were out, only a few bleary-eyed early commuters. She could faintly smell coffee brewing, probably from the donut shop down the street. The sky was overcast, but it wasn't raining. There was a faint breeze. Her hair brushed against her cheeks. She shivered, feeling slightly on edge.

After about ten minutes of walking, he turned a sharp corner and led her to the middle of an outdoor shopping center. The ground was made of grey cobblestones. Small trees and a couple of bubbling fountains decorated the area. There were lots of expensive clothing and jewelry stores surrounding them, along with a shop that had overpriced kitchen utensils. Nothing was open yet. "Erik, you're not going to steal anything, are you?" she asked, her stomach churning. _Why would he take her here?_ "I don't need a wedding gift that badly."

"No. No, I will not steal anything," he said, glancing into the distance. "I am giving something back, you see. Will you wait here for your gift?" He took a slow step backward. His eyes lingered on her face.

"All right. I'll wait…"

"Yes. Wait."

"But I'm kind of nervous. I feel like Simba right before the stampede." She forced a smile as her heart pounded.

 _"What?"_

"Never mind. We really do need to watch some movies."

He shook his head as though amused. "You are…so very lovely," he said. Then he silently reached out. She took his hand and was surprised to feel a piece of paper in her fingers. He had slipped a note in. "Read it later," he stated. "After I give you your gift."

"Okay." Her hand dropped back to her side. She wanted to ask more questions but didn't know what to say.

Their eyes locked together for a final moment. She felt her stomach began to drop even if her brain hadn't quite caught on.

"You are extraordinarily wonderful," he stated. "I hope you know that. I love you." Their eyes met one last time. He back away. With one final glance at her, Erik turned a corner behind a store and disappeared.

He left her standing there. All alone.

She waited. She could hear her breath and her heart pounding in her ears. She could smell rain. Then -

Then she heard the sirens.

"Erik?" Her voice shook. "What's going on? Erik!"

She turned around in a circle. Just as she started to try to follow him, she heard rapid footsteps approaching her, coming from the entrance to the shopping center. Christine whirled around, expecting to see Erik, expecting him to tell her that they needed to get out of there. Before the police arrived.

Her mouth fell open.

Nadir. Nadir Khan ran up to her. His clothes were wrinkled, as though he'd jumped out of bed and thrown them on.

It took her a second to find her voice. "What's going on?"

"You are here!" Nadir exclaimed. He grinned with clear relief. "Thank God! Ms. Daae. Christine Daae. I can't tell you how good it is to finally meet you. I'm Nadir. And everything is going to be okay."

"I don't understand," she whispered. Suddenly, the whole plaza was tilting and spinning.

"It's going to be fine," he told her. "Woah." She had started to fall. Nadir caught her beneath the arms. He gently lowered her to the cold ground so that she was sitting down. "You'll be fine. No one can hurt you now. An ambulance is on the way."

Her head was swimming. The one thing she could think to do was tuck the note into the pocket of her jeans before anyone noticed it. It was the best thing she could have done. She was soon swarmed by police and medical personnel. The former had their guns drawn as they searched the whole area, hollering commands to each other. She could hear the indiscernible chatter of radios. The EMTs asked her questions as they guided her toward an open ambulance. Was she injured anywhere? Was she hungry or thirsty? The reporters arrived near the end and were kept at a distance from the scene, but she could still see the flashes of their cameras. They screamed out questions that she ignored.

Before the ambulance swept her away, the police asked her if she knew where Erik had gone. "I have no idea," she stated, looking them in the eye. "He didn't tell me."

The ride to the hospital was a bumpy blur. She felt like she was watching all of it happen from high above, detached from her body or seeing a dream. The medics checked her heart and blood pressure. They asked her how she was feeling. "I'm fine," she murmured. "I'm not hurt. Only a little dizzy. Everything sounds far away…"

In privacy at the hospital, a nurse asked her more awkward questions concerning what had happened to her. Christine replied in the negative. It was the truth after all. _Yes, I'm sure. No, I don't want that. There's no way I could be pregnant. No, I'm not lying because I'm embarrassed. Nothing happened._

She didn't think anyone believed her. She didn't really care. Her brain felt numb. She still couldn't grasp what was happening.

They wanted her to put on a hospital gown, and she agreed to do that. Christine asked if she could go to the bathroom by herself and change. They allowed this. She was desperately grateful for a moment of privacy, a minute to clear her head. More than anything, she wanted to read that letter. She took the note out of her pocket and carefully unfolded it. Through increasingly blurry eyes, she read Erik's last words to her. He had typed everything but his signature, which was bright red.

 _My beloved Christine,_

 _If you are reading this, it means I was able to force myself to do the impossible. I am returning your life to you. There will be no wedding nor any sort of disaster. You are free._

 _If it gives your heart peace, I encourage you to tell the police of my location. I will not move from where we lay that night. I have no desire to do so ever again, as it is the now happiest place in the world. Whatever you decide, I promise you have nothing more to fear from me. I will not haunt you again._

 _I love you. You gave me more happiness than I ever could imagined, much more than I will ever deserve. I wish you all the happiness you could ever imagine._

 _Erik_

With each word, she felt the lump in her throat grow larger, until she could barely swallow at all. Christine sunk to her knees against the cold linoleum tiles. After quickly folding up the letter and stuffing it into her pocket, she stared at the floor as tears dripped down her cheeks. He had meant to free her. Yet - his words repeated in her mind. _I will not move from where we lay that night. I have no desire to do so ever again_ ….

The lyrics to his song returned to her, too. That song had not been about only peace, she realized. It had been about death. And…

As she stared at the square tiles of the hospital bathroom floor, Christine suddenly saw a vision in her head. A memory from months ago.

Christine saw her mother, so vividly. On the bathroom floor. The bare foot poking out from behind the door. The pale pink bathroom rugs. She saw death. Her heart broke into a thousand pieces.

Not again. _Please not again. I can't…No, no, no. God, no._

She didn't know what she wanted yet. Not really. But she did know one thing. She knew it completely.

 _I don't want him to die. He can't die. He can't! Please God – no!_

The spot where Erik had left her wasn't that far from theater. The police would eventually figure it out. He wouldn't even try to save himself. He wasn't going to run. He was ready to die. She could feel it in that letter, hear it in his song, see it in his eyes when he gave her that last glance. He was done with life.

A long wail escaped from her lips.

The sound must have alarmed the hospital staff. A woman knocked on the door and asked frantically, "Christine? Are you okay? Christine?"

She forced herself up before they burst in. Her legs were shaking, and she could barely keep her balance. She opened the door and stared into the face of a frightened nurse. "I want Nadir," she stated in a hoarse voice. "I want to see Nadir Khan. I want to see him now! Find him! Please!"

The nurse gaped at her. "Who's Nadir Khan?"

"A policeman. Or a former policeman. Something like that. I know he's close! I saw him right before they brought me here."

"Are you sure? We hoped to let you rest before speaking to the police again," she hesitantly replied.

"I want to see Nadir! It's very important." Christine quickly added, "It's important to the case. There may not be a lot of time."

"All right. I'll see if we can get a hold of him." The nurse forced a smile. "Raoul Chagny is here, too. Did you know that? He wants to see you, when you're ready."

"I need to see Nadir first." Her brain was focused on this mission. It was all she could think about and deal with right now. Everything else could be fixed later. "Please." The nurse nodded and left. Folding her arms against her chest, Christine sat on the bed. She didn't even remember to change into the gown. She huddled there in a tense ball that was seconds away from exploding into full-fledged panic.

Nadir must not have been far because he was in her hospital room within fifteen minutes.

"Shut the door," she told him, sitting up straight.

He did so. "Christine? I had hoped to speak with you soon, but I was going to let you have some time to recover."

She leaned forward. "Nadir. You have to stop him. You have to make sure Erik doesn't…doesn't…" She shook her head. "I don't want him to die! Please."

"What? Do you know where he is?" Nadir softly asked, studying her face.

She hesitated. "Can I trust you? Can I trust you not to hurt him? Can you help him?"

"What?" Nadir tilted his head. His eyes looked concerned. "Ms. Daae. You should concentrate on healing right now. You've been through all hell. If you have any tips for the police-"

"No!" Her face collapsed. "They're going to kill him! He doesn't even care if they do. That's what I'm trying to tell you. He's not going to try to save himself. He might even hurt himself! He's going to die. I need you to stop that from happening!"

It took Nadir a second to speak. "He's done some very terrible things. Maybe you didn't know that but-"

"I knew that! I know what he's done. But there's…there's good, too…Oh, Nadir. You have to know that, too!" Tears poured down her face. "Please help me save him. I would go back, but I know the police are watching me. I won't tell them anything. But I'm afraid that I won't get back to him in time. Before they find him. But you can! You can protect him. You've helped him before. I know you have!"

He reached out and lightly touched her arm in an awkward display of comfort. "You need rest. You need time to recover. And forget all this-"

"Listen to me," she said through gritted teeth. "You have to save him. If you won't do it for him, do it for me."

Nadir looked at the ceiling and shook his head. "You want me to take him to prison? You think that would be better than death? Where is he? At that theater? You want me to go there and see if he'll let me arrest him?"

That thought was nearly as horrifying. _And Nadir knew! What if all the police knew by now? Erik could be dead already!_ "There has to be another way! Can't you hide him? Until I can talk to him, you could keep him safe. Or you could get him out of the city until I-"

"Christine," Nadir said in a hushed voice. "He is wanted for first degree murder. Of an officer! He's one of the most wanted men in the whole country!"

"Help me!" she shouted at him. Hopeless panic descended up on her her. "I'll do anything. Help me! I can't-"

"He has killed people. Innocent people! I cannot allow him to go free in society. And it's not safe for him to be around you. There were days when I wondered if you were dead, Christine. Did you know that?" Nadir's eyes suddenly teared up. "I thought he might have killed you. That is how dangerous he is! I don't know if you're understanding the-"

"I do understand! And I'm asking you to help me anyway. Tell him he can't die. Tell him I care about him. I'll help him. I'll—I-I-I need-" She dissolved into sobs, shoulders heaving, unable to breathe or to speak. Nadir had been her only possible ally, her only chance to save Erik. Now she was nearing an edge that she didn't know if she would return from, teetering on the brink of sanity.

Nadir stared at her as though she had completely lost her mind. Maybe she had. Being with Erik for so long had decimated all ethical certainties, all boundaries of law and order, until there was nothing but a pile of grey dust. She could only see that one shining truth. _Erik had to live._

In the midst of it all, Nadir's phone began to ring. They both jumped. Nadir looked at the screen. His forehead crinkled. A strange expression crossed his face.

"Is it Erik?" she managed to ask. She would have ripped that phone from his hand.

"No," he replied. Her shoulders drooped. Nadir gave her a long, sad look. He glanced back at his phone. "It's…it's another option, maybe." He shook his head. He glanced at her again. "You really care about him?"

 _"Yes!"_

"Welcome to the miserable club." Nadir sighed. "I can't believe I'm doing this again." Before Christine could respond, Nadir answered the call. "Hello Hope."


	28. Chapter 28

Here we are. Our season finale. Thank you all for your kind comments. I know the last one was a rough chapter. I think my husband thought I was nuts because I kept crying while writing it ;D

 **Thank you again! Enjoy!**

Nadir's conversation was brief. Christine could hear a woman on the other end but couldn't understand what she was saying. Toward the end, Nadir glanced at Christine. Removing the phone from his ear, he softly asked, " _Is_ Erik in that theater?"

She glared and hoarsely replied, "Promise me you're not going to hurt him."

"I won't hurt him." Christine stared at Nadir, unsure as to whether she could trust him. Erik's life depended on it, and Nadir's earlier words gave her little confidence that Erik would come out of this alive. Nadir shook his head and talked into the phone again. "Yes, come," he said. "She doesn't trust me. I don't really blame her." He hung up. His hand fell to his side.

"Who were you talking to?" Christine asked. She used both hands to wipe the tears from her face.

"Hope Ivey. She's…Well, she was Erik's mentor within SCI."

"Mentor," Christine dully repeated. She couldn't picture Erik having a mentor.

"Yes. That's our other option. We can return Erik to SCI. Hope says he'll be in a safer location, so that nothing like this ever happens again."

Christine stared off to the side, desperately trying to think. This option was certainly better than Erik dying or going to jail. But – was it really the only way - the best way? Time was running out. "You don't think the police have found him, do you?" she asked.

"I have no indication of that yet. While they know he's been at the theater in the past, I'm not sure the authorities understand the significance of it to him. Not like I do."

Christine tilted her head. "If you know he's in there, why are you bringing Hope here?"

"I want you to have some peace of mind. I need Hope, anyway, as I don't have the manpower to get Erik to come with me."

Christine swallowed at the implications. "And she does?"

"I think so."

"Why do you have a weird look on your face when you talk about her? Can we trust her?"

Nadir hesitated for such a long time that Christine squirmed. "You're asking me to help you hide and protect a very wanted criminal, someone whom society would like to see dead." She flinched. "Therefore, you have to understand that anyone who is willing to help us…well, they are going to have their own…They are going to be complex individuals. Is Hope the pinnacle of morality? No. How could she be?" He paused. "Can she save Erik's life? Can she possibly give him some semblance of happiness? Maybe. I think so."

Christine slowly nodded. She understood what he was saying. She was asking someone to help her break the law. Therefore, she couldn't be picky.

Hope arrived within twenty minutes. Christine gave the wary hospital staff permission for her to come in.

A year ago, Christine would have found the very polished Hope, in her wide-legged navy blue pantsuit, highly intimidating. Christine would have avoided eye contact and prayed that Hope didn't notice her secondhand clothes and untrimmed nails. Now, Christine didn't care if she looked like a windblown mess or what this woman thought of her. She needed answers now. After Nadir introduced them, Christine immediately asked, "Can you help him?"

"I can," said Hope. Her voice was calm. "Will you give us a moment?" she asked Nadir.

"Why?" he asked with suspicion.

"I want to talk to Christine. I want her to be able to trust this process."

"Fine," he replied. He glanced between them and left, shaking his head.

Hope turned back to Christine. "You want to save his life?"

"Yes! More than anything!"

"Good. Because so do I," Hope replied with a smile. "Erik was doing wonderfully within SCI. He was thriving. He was happy. I was devastated when they took him away and ruined all that progress. It's taken some time, but now I can put him somewhere where he'll be left alone."

Christine didn't even know what to ask. One thing really mattered. "He was happy there? You're sure?"

"He absolutely was. Would you like to see a picture?"

"Of Erik?" She couldn't imagine Erik letting anyone take his picture.

"Yes." Hope pulled a black leather billfold from her purse. She opened it and removed a photograph. "Here."

With trembling hands, Christine took the picture. Her heart skipped a beat. It was then that she truly understood. Erik had told her about SCI, and she'd had a vague idea. But actually _seeing_ him in there - a soft sob of disbelief escaped her lips. How could this young man, who was nearly Raoul's age, be Erik? Still, Christine could see the essence of Erik within his eyes and expression, to the point where she knew that Hope was telling the truth. He looked happy but a little confused.

Christine felt intense grief and loss. But how could she deny Erik this other life? What did Erik have in the real world? Nearly everyone hated him. The police wanted to kill him. At best, he would be arrested and imprisoned for the rest of his life. Erik was miserable here.

And what could she offer? Christine didn't even know. She only knew that she wanted to protect him. With all her heart, she wanted him to be happy. _She wished she could hug and kiss him one last time, feel his suit beneath the tips of her fingers…_

"You can keep it," said Hope.

Christine blinked. She didn't know if she wanted the picture. This wasn't Erik. Not her Erik. At least she had that letter, one real keepsake from him.

"Time is short," Hope continued, breaking into her thoughts. "If the police get him to first, it's not going to be good for anyone. Especially Erik. Can you tell me where he is?"

"Music," said Christine, suddenly remembering. "He said you took music from him. Why?"

"I didn't take – Oh." Hope paused. "The brain is highly complex, Christine. I don't have time to explain everything. But art is strongly tied to emotional centers. Actors, artists, musicians. They are some of the most amazing people in the whole world, aren't they? But - that doesn't mean they're the happiest people. Balance is needed for Erik. I'm sure we'll find it."

Christine didn't know enough about the issue to even argue. "Yes," she murmured. "Please try to give him music back. It means so much to him."

"I will do my best. Now is he at the theater?"

"Does it hurt him when you put him in SCI?" Christine desperately tried to think of all the questions she needed to ask.

"There's mild discomfort. But nothing more than that."

"And he'll be safe there? The police won't get to him?"

"Much safer than he was before. No one will hurt him. I'll make sure of that."

Christine already knew her next request wasn't going to be granted. "Maybe I could come with you? Make sure he's okay? See if this is what he wants?"

Hope shook her head. "I'm sorry. You're a security risk. Everyone's watching you. You'd lead the police to him, and it'd be all over the news. They're going to label you with Stockholm syndrome."

Christine's heart fell. "Is that what you think I have?"

Hope softly laughed. "I don't know much about you. And you don't know much about me. So let's refrain from labeling each other. I know all too well what that's like. Work with me. Help me save him."

Christine nodded. "All right." She squeezed her eyes closed. She couldn't say that she completely trusted Hope. But she did think that Hope could get Erik out of death's way. As long as Erik lived through the day, there was hope. Hope. "The theater," Christine whispered. "He's hidden far down below." She gave directions to the room as best she could. "I don't know what he'll do when you get there," she warned.

"Thank you," said Hope. She reached out and squeezed Christine's shoulder. "You've done a wonderful thing." She turned to leave.

"Wait!" Christine hopped off the hospital bed. She reached out and grabbed Hope's arm. "Tell him I…I'm sorry. And that I care about him. And that I-I-I…"

Hope turned, but there was an impatience in her expression. "I'll tell him you want him to be happy. And that you want the best for him. How's that?"

Christine nodded. Hope started to leave again. "Hope!" Christine called, her voice breaking. The tears fell once again. "Please be good to him. Please don't hurt him! Please be good to him!"

Hope gave her a sad smile. "Christine. I will…treat him like my own son. I promise." Hope left, shutting the door behind her.

Christine fell back against the bed, one hand over her mouth, hoping she hadn't doomed Erik. To her relief, Nadir immediately came back in. "I'm going to help Hope," he told her. He looked tired.

"You'd better not hurt him," said Christine.

"I will do everything in my power to save his life. He let you go. So I will give him another chance. Now you get back to your life, Christine."

"You'll let me know if he makes it?"

"Yes. I'll call you."

She made sure that Nadir had her room number. Despite the fact that Hope seemed to want to save Erik's life more than Nadir did, Christine found herself trusting Nadir more. There was something kindly about him.

"Take care of yourself," he said and left.

The room was silent and empty. Christine lay down fully clothed, staring up at the white ceiling, feeling ill and paralyzed. A nurse reminded her about the hospital gown. Christine finally changed, making sure she kept her jeans nearby, thereby securing the note. The staff examined her. She had bruises and scrapes but nothing serious. They gave her grape juice to drink and crackers to eat. She could barely taste them.

Then a nurse asked if she was ready to see Raoul.

"Yes," Christine replied. "I'll see him." She still felt as though she were in a dream.

Her door swung open. "Christine!" Raoul ran toward her bed and embraced her. She hugged him and cried, overwhelmed. He was warm and smelled like soap. His arms were comforting. "I can't believe it!" he exclaimed, tears in his own voice. His neck was still bruised. "I thought I might never see you again. I'm so sorry, Christine. I'm so sorry I couldn't get you out of there. I'm so sorry."

"It's okay," she told him. "It's not your fault. I'm fine. It's okay."

He held her for a long time and stayed with her the rest of the day. They didn't say much to each other. She wasn't ready to talk yet. Sometimes he would ask her if she was okay or if she needed anything. She always replied that she was fine.

She wouldn't be even close to okay until Nadir called her.

Christine eventually turned on the television. The news was reporting that she had been found alive. The police were still searching for Erik.

"Hopefully, they'll find him," said Raoul. She didn't reply. He looked at her. "Did you run? Is that how you got away?"

"No," she murmured. "He let me go."

"What? Really? Do you know why?"

"I guess…I guess he changed his mind," she replied, staring at her hands. _He did it for me._ _Erik, did you have to do it like this?_

"Jesus," said Raoul. "What a psycho. I'm just grateful you're alive."

The phone call came late that afternoon. When the desk notified her, her heart nearly stopped. She didn't know if she could survive this moment. She gently asked Raoul for privacy before she shakily answered. "Hello?"

Christine squeezed her eyes closed, waiting for the news that would either break her heart or allow her to move on with her life.

In the end, it did neither and both.

 _Goodbye, Erik._

* * *

"Who's helping us?" asked Nadir. He was sitting in Hope's silver Lexus. They were speeding through the city streets, and Nadir was a little scared of her driving. She stopped inches away from other cars and accelerated so quickly that Nadir had to catch his breath.

"A private security company," she replied, tapping her red nails against the steering wheel. "They're in this for the money. They're not going to ask questions."

"Aren't the feds on our side?" asked Nadir.

"In a way, meaning they're letting us go under the radar as far as the justice system is concerned. But if we make a scene or end up on the news, they'll pretend like they don't know anything. This has to happen very quietly."

Nadir tensed as Hope came to another fast stop. "I don't know if Erik will let us take him alive. He may be ready to die." He sadly added, "There is also the chance that Erik could already be dead by his own hand. Christine was worried about that."

Hope stared forward. "All we can do is try, Nadir."

"If we find him, I'd like to talk to him first. I might be able to keep him calm. We have a long history."

"I'm fine with that."

"And if Erik gets violent?"

"Tranquilizers," Hope replied. "Stun guns. Everything in that room will be non-lethal, though."

"Except Erik," joked Nadir.

"He needs a lot of care," Hope fondly replied. "He'll be fine once I get him home." At that moment, she received a call and said a few words to someone on the other end. "Yep. Right. Second left. See you." She hung up, looking more determined.

They arrived at about a block from the theater. There were cop cars lined up along the streets but not as many as Nadir had expected. Hope parked in an underground garage, and they waited in the darkness. Within five minutes, a black SUV pulled up beside them. Six robust men in grey bulletproof vests and helmets quickly climbed out of it. They were not holding guns, but there were instruments in their belts and pockets, flashlights and various weapons. They resembled law enforcement, and Nadir would have treated them as such if he hadn't known the truth.

"Do you know the way?" Hope asked him. She had already shared Christine's directions, hoping they would make more sense to Nadir than they did to her.

"I think so." Nadir climbed out and took the lead, feeling somewhat more in control. The men seemed fine taking his and Hope's orders. Clearly, someone was paying them well to do this job. Mercenaries weren't the worst thing in the world, especially in this situation.

A police officer glanced at them as they headed toward the theater. The officer looked as though he were going to approach them but then stopped. "They must assume we're the FBI," Nadir commented, keeping his head down. Both he and Hope walked in between the men so that no one would recognize them.

"Like I said," Hope quietly replied. "If we don't make a scene, we'll be fine."

They entered the theater. The abandoned building smelled damp and moldy. Dusty chairs and tables were piled near the entryway. Cobwebs were strung between the light fixtures. Nadir led them all down a nearby flight of creaky stairs, his heard pounding. He was worried that Erik was dead. Or that this would go awry. What if Erik refused to leave? What if Erik killed someone? Still, the more Nadir thought about it, the more he saw Christine's tear-stained face in his mind, the more he was sure that this was the best option.

They turned down dark twisting hallways and headed through hidden doorways. Some of the men started to look a little concerned at this point, staring around the eerie maze and keeping their hands ready at their sides.

Hope noticed. "No lethal weapons," she stated. "I thought that was clear."

"No lethal weapons against the target," one of the men gruffly replied. "If anyone else is down here…"

Hope rolled her eyes but said nothing else. Nadir grew increasingly nervous. He took a few wrong turns but suddenly felt as though they were heading in the right direction. Christine's instructions made sense. A long mirror there. A golden lamp in the shape of a goose here. A flickering overhead light. A rolled up Persian carpet.

"I think this is it," he said, coming upon a closed door. It looked ordinary, yet Nadir could almost sense life behind it. "I'll go first." He inhaled and grabbed the doorknob.

"Maybe you should take one of them with you," Hope said, gesturing to the men.

"No," Nadir stated. "No, let it be just me. Please."

She reluctantly nodded.

Nadir slowly opened the door with a soft squeak. Erik hadn't even locked it, assuming he was in here.

There was a little more light inside the room. Nadir first noticed the piano. A dark blue dress in the middle of the floor signified that Christine had been there. _A volleyball?_ A computer with some wires attached to it. But where was –

"Hello, old friend."

Nadir jumped and looked down. Erik was lying on a worn sofa, staring at him. His bony hands were clasped together over his stomach, like a corpse. He didn't have his mask on. His white shirt was untucked, and his black trousers were wrinkled. He looked frail. But he was alive.

"Have you come to kill me?" Erik asked, raising his head slightly. "Did she send you to kill me?"

It took Nadir a second to speak. "No, I haven't come to kill you."

"That is a pity. Did you see her? Is she well?"

"She'll be fine," said Nadir. "And she did send me here. But not to kill you."

Erik tensed and fully sat up. "To arrest me then? I will not go. Perhaps she thought that was a kinder alternative, but I will not go."

"Not to arrest you either. She wanted me to save you."

"What? Why?" Erik rasped.

"I don't know," said Nadir, feeling a lump in his throat. Erik looked so much like a corpse that Nadir wondered if it was time to let him die. "I guess you made a good impression on her. I guess she saw something in you worth saving."

Erik flinched. "That is impossible. I caused her great misery." Erik folded into himself. His arms nearly crossed at his chest. He bowed his head. "I wish to be left alone. If you will not kill me, then allow me to die in peace. I will not go anywhere with you, Khan."

"Not even back into the System?"

"It is not possible now."

"But it is," said Nadir, forcing a shadow of a smile. "I think it is." He turned and opened the door. Hope and the security team stared at him expectantly. "You come in," he said to Hope. "Just you for now."

She didn't even hesitate. Hope did recoil briefly when she first saw Erik. Anyone would have. She recovered quickly, though. A smile lit up her face. "Hello, Erik! It's so good to see you. I'm here to take you home. Away from all this misery. I'm so very sorry for what happened, but I'd like to make it right now."

Erik drew back, glaring. He didn't seem to recognize her. He clearly grew conscious of his face, turning away from her.

"Don't you remember me?" she asked, taking a step forward. "Our chats on the computer? We talked about your work. We were good friends. Don't you remember, Erik?"

"It really does not matter," Erik finally replied, his voice nearly a whisper. "I am tired. Of being prodded and stared at and studied. Of being a science project. I am ready to die."

"It's not your time to die," pled Hope. "It's your time to live again. You'll have a better life than this one."

"For fuck's sake," Erik snapped and sharply rose up. He faced them both, hands clenching at his sides. Nadir took a step backward, debating calling in the security team. "Do I have to _force_ you to kill me? I said I wished to die! Now either get the hell out of here and let me do it. Or do it yourselves!" He took a threatening step forward. He spread out his arms at his sides. "Do it!"

"Erik," said Nadir as Hope turned toward the door. " _She_ begged for your life. Christine begged and wept on your behalf. You really want her to be okay? Then live for her. I don't know if she'll recover from your death."

"Why?" Erik sharply asked. He seemed truly confused. "Why would she care? She should wish me death. She should wish me the most painful death imaginable. She should want it."

"Well, she doesn't!" Nadir exclaimed.

 _"Why?!"_

"That girl cares about you. She was ready to break all sorts of laws to save your life. She…Well, the look on her face when she thought you were going to die. I don't know if I can tell her that you're dead. Don't make me do that. Don't make me break her heart."

Erik finally looked stunned. He just stood there, limply, staring into space as though he could see Hell in the distance.

Hope used that moment to take action. "Now!" she called before Nadir could react. The security team entered, boots pounding against the concrete. Before Erik could move, they fired a stream of electrical currents into his emaciated body. Erik slumped to the ground, landing on his back, silently twitching. While he was incapacitated, one them stuck a needle into his upper arm. His yellow eyes were wide and empty. He didn't try to fight. He was expressionless.

Once Erik was still, fading into unconsciousness, Hope knelt over him. "It's all going to be okay soon," she murmured. "It's all going to be fine. All this horror will be over soon. You're coming home, dear."

Nadir met Erik's eyes before they closed. "It will be fine," Nadir said although he wasn't sure if that was the truth. "It will be fine now, Erik. I'm sorry for all this."

Erik's body relaxed. He looked so very dead. Only the slight rise and fall of his chest gave indication that he wasn't. The security team quickly carried Erik out of the room, through the twisting hallways and up the stairs. While the team remained professional, Nadir could see horror and disgust within their expressions. Nadir and Hope followed closely behind them, giving occasional directions when the men appeared to be lost.

When they reached the theater exit, one man went outside to ensure they wouldn't have an audience. After a couple of minutes, he gave the all clear. They followed, making sure no police or camera crews were nearby. Nadir held his breath until they reached the dark security of the parking garage. The men quickly loaded Erik into the back of the SUV. Erik never moved or made a sound. "Careful with him," said Hope. "He has a long journey ahead of him."

Nadir stared at the entire scene with a sinking sensation. Yet, he didn't know how else this could have ended. Wasn't this the best way? It had to be. The only other option was for Erik to die.

Nadir had the feeling that he wasn't leaving with Hope. He was right.

"Can you get home?" she asked. "I could call you a taxi."

"I'll be fine." Nadir glanced at the SUV.

Hope read his expression. "Everything worked out wonderfully," she stated. "He's alive. He's going to be happy again. He won't hurt anyone. There's no better outcome." She turned toward her car.

"Isabel," said Nadir. The security team was in the SUV and couldn't hear him.

She flinched at her real name and whirled around, eyes flashing.

"I don't know what happens after all this. But I trust you're not going to take this down a road where the ethical implications become too dark to imagine. Regarding Erik. Regarding…your son. Regarding society. If I find out otherwise, I'm not going to be happy."

"This isn't yours to worry about anymore," she replied. "I have it on good authority that the Governor will leave you alone if you get the hell out of his state." She smiled slightly. "Go retire. Go drink fruity cocktails on a beach. You wouldn't want your retirement cut short, would you?"

"Was that a threat?" Nadir asked.

"It was a simple suggestion. Goodbye, Nadir. Thank you for all your help." Hope left him standing there and climbed into her car.

Nadir let her go. What else was there to say? Soon, he was all alone in the parking garage. He tried to call the hospital but couldn't get phone reception down there. He walked to the surface, to the sunlight, and called again with success. "I'd like to speak to Christine Daae."

"Hello?" asked the saddest voice in the world.

"Hello, Christine."

"What happened?" she frantically asked. "Is he okay?"

"Everything went as planned. We found him alive, exactly where you said we would. He resisted a little. But, after I told him how much you wanted him to live, he was more compliant. So you saved him. Even without being there."

"Thank God," she said. "Oh, I hope he's okay! I hope so. I hope so. Was this right? Nadir, please tell me this was right!"

"It's the best we could have done. It's the best for everyone. For you. For him. He'll be fine."

"I hope so. I hope he's okay."

Nadir knew he needed to keep the conversation short. The less said over the phone, the better. "Now you go live your life, Christine. That's an order. An official police order."

She brokenly laughed. "I'll…try."

"Good." A silence passed. "You take care. Call me if you need anything else." He gave her his number.

"Thank you," she whispered. "Goodbye, Nadir."

"Goodbye." He hung up. He took a seat on a nearby bench.

He stared into the distance, not really seeing all the people and cars going down the city street. It was a half hour later before he finally called a cab.

* * *

 _He_ saw her perfect face in his mind. He felt the caress of her fingers against his disgusting body. He felt her warm lips against his corpse skin. He deserved none of it yet she gave it. She gave it, and he could not keep her. He could not destroy her any longer. She deserved none of the torment that he had unleashed on her. And he knew it.

He heard a roar in his ears.

Maybe he was hurtling towards Hell.

He opened his eyes. No, unfortunately he was still quite alive, strapped down and immobilized in a soft red seat. He was on a small airplane. He looked to the side, out the window, and saw thousands of trees and a winding river far below him. The sun was setting. He was heading south.

He remembered how soft she felt, how her hair tickled his face as she kissed him, how he had felt like dying of love. He remembered seeing her for the last time, right before he had let her go. She had not even looked angry with him. And she had not wanted him dead, despite everything. She was so lovely and good. An angel.

And he was so vile, so wretched. So ugly and evil. He had been very ready to die on that couch. He'd had a bottle of pills nearby, white ones – not red ones, in case death did not arrive fast enough. He had been so tired and finished…

Perhaps it did not matter that his plan had been destroyed. This would be close enough to death, even if his heart would keep beating. He would nearly cease to exist soon. Hopefully.

A moan.

At first, _he_ thought that the pathetic sound had come from his throat. He was disgusted with himself for making such a noise.

Another moan.

No, that sound had most certainly not come from him. It had come from behind him.

 _He_ heard quick footsteps against carpet. Then Hope Ivey's voice— "It's going to be okay, sweetheart. Momma's here."

The reply was a third groggy moan.

"You're just fine, Nicholas. Everything is fine now. I love you. I'll put you back to sleep. You'll be at your new home soon."

 _His_ eyes widened. As it all began to click together in his head like a demented puzzle, a sick smile formed on his hideous face. _He_ hoarsely chuckled at the absurdity of it all.

Hearing his laughter, Hope quickly walked forward. Her expression was alarmed. "Erik. You're awake."

"Good evening…Mrs. Vaughan," he replied. "How is your son?"

She grimaced. "He's fine. This is a second chance for everyone, Erik. For you and for him. A second life for you both."

 _He_ shook his head. "No, Mrs. Vaughan. It is a first death for us both. A chemical and electronic lobotomy, if you will. But I do not care. I am ready to die in whatever way you have planned."

"It's not death," she insisted. "It's life."

"Whatever." _He_ tilted his head as something occurred to him. "In light of this news, though, I do have a small request to ask of you." He made the demand, and she resisted at first. Then she pretended that she had no control over the matter. Until he promised, "Do it, and I will be completely compliant. No resistance. No fighting. Do as you like with me. I will be like a lamb awaiting the slaughter." He paused. "But if you do not agree to it, I will fight you at every turn. And that is no good for your precious son, is it? I have that right, don't I? I am your lab rat. If you can make Erik a good boy, then you can make Nicholas a good boy?"

"That's not how this…" She shook her head, obviously not wanting to debate the issue. "How will you even know if I keep my word?" she asked, eyeing him.

"Whether you believe me or not, I do have a way of figuring things out. For now, promise me, and I will believe you."

"Fine," she said, waving her hand to the side. "I promise. It doesn't matter now anyway. As long as I have Nicholas, the rest of it doesn't matter." She grabbed a syringe. "But you're going back to sleep now. We're landing soon."

 _He_ did not protest. He looked back out the window as a needle pierced his arm. He had done his best for Christine. He had tried to give her a last gift. He hoped she would recover. He hoped she would be very happy. He hoped that she received everything she ever wanted.

 _He hoped she was loved by someone who could give her everything she deserved..._

Every second that ticked by without her was agony. His heart unbearably ached. So he welcomed the darkness that clouded the edges of his vision. He welcomed nonexistence.

 _Goodbye, Christine._


	29. Chapter 29

Hi, all! It's time to get back to these characters after a brief jump in time.

Did anyone else see the full eclipse? That was pretty cool, huh? Plus, I think Erik would appreciate it getting dark during the daytime ;)

 **Enjoy! Read and Review!**

Christine kept her phone by the side of her bed. It was set on a low volume to a ringtone that was supposed to sound like a waterfall. A counselor had told her to keep electronics out of the bedroom so that she could get a more restful sleep. Christine had replied, "But what if I have an emergency?"

The counselor had replied, "You can keep the phone in there but turn off the volume."

"But what if someone is trying to get a hold of me?"

"Who are you worried about?"

Christine had fidgeted. "No one, I guess."

"No, it's okay." The counselor had smiled warmly. "It makes perfect sense that you'd worry. Are you concerned that something could happen to your boyfriend?"

She'd swallowed. "No. I mean, I don't have a boyfriend. We broke up."

"I'm sorry to hear that. Do you want to talk about it?"

"No. He had to go back to school, and I…It didn't work out."

"Who are you currently relying on for support?"

"I've been talking to my Aunt Jackie. She lives in New York City. I actually went and stayed with her for a week, after Raoul and I broke up. We went shopping and out to eat. She said that I could live with her for a while."

"Did you want to?" asked the counselor.

"Kind of. It was good to be in a new place, away from all this. But I…" Christine had sighed. "I'm not ready to leave yet."

"It doesn't sound like you have much support here, though."

"I know."

Christine could tell that the counselor pitied her – the formerly kidnapped girl with no friends and very little family. It had been nearly three weeks since she'd gone to a counseling session. She didn't have much more to say. Yes, it was all traumatic. She still had nightmares, among other unsettling dreams that kept her awake half of the night. Yes, she knew that none of it was her fault. She just wanted to get on with her life. She didn't want to talk about it anymore. Raoul had wanted to talk about it too much –

" _You're so distant."_

" _I'm not, Raoul. I've already told you everything."_

" _You're so quiet all the time. I'm wondering what's going on in your head."_

" _I'm tired. That's all. I need sleep. I'll be fine. Nothing is going on in my head."_

Nothing meaning everything.

Still, her statement had been partly true. She was tired. She would go to bed around 9:30 PM. She'd wake up around 7:30 AM and then lie in bed until about 9. Except for the bad days, when she would lie in bed for over twenty-four hours straight with the blinds closed, only getting up for water and the bathroom. There were fewer of those days now.

Despite what the counselor had said, Christine kept her phone in the bedroom with the volume on. One morning, as she was drifting back and forth between sleep and wakefulness, it rang. She sat up and blinked. She glanced at her alarm clock and saw that it was a quarter until nine. Ever since she'd broken up with Raoul, people didn't call her much. The calls from reporters had stopped about a month ago. Aunt Jackie called on Saturdays. Today was a Tuesday.

She answered with a groggy, "Hello?"

"Hi. Christine?" asked a somewhat familiar female voice.

"Yeah. It's Christine."

"Hi! I don't know if you remember me. Ashley Ramos from the 6th Street Theater."

"I remember you." Ashley had been the secretary, management's main go-to person. "Hey. What's up?"

"I wanted to know if you'd heard the news. The theater is opening back up. They're renovating it right now."

"Really?" Christine murmured. "But the parking garage. I thought-"

"They're putting it somewhere else. They're finally tearing down that awful stadium and building it there. So the theater stays. And - we want you to come back!"

"To work?" Christine asked, stunned.

"Yeah. And to maybe perform, if you want to. I mean, I don't want to make you sound like an attraction, especially if you want privacy. We know you've been through a lot. But, if you sing at the reopening, it could be kind of inspirational." A pause. "But only if you want to. No pressure."

"Um. Yeah. I mean, I definitely want a job. And I'll think about the singing. I, um, haven't done much of it lately."

"Great! Well, I'll let you know when it's open. Part of it's going to be under construction for a while. But yeah! We're all excited."

"Yeah. Me, too. Thanks for letting me know."

"Sure! We've all been thinking of you."

"Thank you."

An awkward silence. "Well, you take care. I'll talk to you soon!"

"You, too. Bye."

Christine hung up. With her phone still clasped in her hand, she lay back down. _How? Had Raoul pulled some strings?_

That was unlikely. He was gone -

" _Why don't you come with me? It's beautiful up there in the fall."_

" _What would I do up there? I'm not getting into Dartmouth, Raoul. Even if by some miracle I did, I could never afford it."_

" _Don't worry about affording anything ever again. Come up there with me. We'll have fun. I'll show you all of New England."_

" _I can't."_

" _Why? What do you have here? This city sucks. It's full of bad memories now. Even I want out of it."_

" _I just…can't."_

She didn't regret not going with him.

She did regret that, while dealing with her parents all those years, she had neglected to make more friendships. After her mother had died, she'd only had Raoul. Without Raoul, she was alone. She'd enjoyed simply sitting on the couch with Aunt Jackie, watching terrible reality shows with a glass of wine in hand, laughing and relaxing. There had been no pressure to pretend to be happy or be someone she wasn't. If she did get lonely to the point of depression, she'd go back up there.

At least Christine would have all her theater acquaintances to see again. She'd have her beloved job. She'd still need to go to school so that she progressed toward some other goal. But at least she belonged somewhere, sort of.

A couple weeks later, Ashley called and invited her to the opening party. Christine agreed to come. On the bus ride over, she saw that the city was bulldozing the stadium. Only the memorial remained intact. The sight of toppled bricks, twisted metal, and clouds of dust was haunting. She got a funny feeling as she stared at it, as though there were some connection that needed to be made. As the bus pulled away, she let it go.

She climbed off the bus at her destination. Her stomach flip-flopped as she walked past the familiar buildings and businesses. Then she saw it towering over her. Her theater.

 _His_ theater.

It had been over three months since she had been here. Three months since…the end.

She stared up at it for a long time, feeling as though she were sinking into the ground, falling into the past.

"Christine!" Her head snapped down. Ashley waved. "I'm so glad you came."

"Yeah." Christine blinked. "I'm here all right." She took a shaky breath.

"Come in." Ashely held the door open. "Okay, I hope you're not embarrassed, but we have a little cake for you."

"Oh, God."

"No, it's nothing. We wanted to welcome you back. I hope you like chocolate…"

Christine soon entered a room filled with smiling, familiar faces. She smiled back. Despite the heavy feeling in her chest, she was glad that she had stayed here. She was glad that she hadn't gone to New England with Raoul. Or to live with Aunt Jackie in New York.

Because this was kind of home.

* * *

As soon as Corey had heard the news, he'd jumped into the System to tell Alice. Alice had left the real world so resigned and despondent that he'd wanted to give her some reassurance. Corey had finally found her at work, staring into a microscope. He had come up behind her and scared her.

"What are you doing here?" she'd asked, a hand over her heart. "I thought you weren't due to come back for a week."

"He let her go," Corey explained.

"What?"

"Erik let her go. Christine is back. I've heard that she's okay. Or as well as can be expected. No major injuries."

"Oh. That's…that's good. That's really good. But what happened to him?" From her tone, Corey immediately knew that she still cared about Erik.

"I don't know. The police haven't found him. At least not according to the news."

Alice had looked disturbed. "Well, let me know if you find out." She paused. "You should try to get in touch with Nadir. Maybe he knows something."

Corey had agreed to so. It had felt a little awkward to make the call several days later. No one had answered. Corey had left a message. "Hey. Uh, it's Corey from SCI. I wanted to chat with you a little bit, given everything that's happened. Give me a call back when you have time."

Nadir had returned his call about a day later. He'd sounded concerned at first. "Hello, Corey. Is everything okay?"

"Yeah," Corey had replied. "Uh. Except Alice and I wanted to know if you had any information on what happened to…Erik."

A long pause followed. "I'm really not at liberty to get into all of that over the phone. I'm also three states away."

"Oh." Now the call was really awkward. "Can you at least tell me if he's alive?"

"I think so." After a hesitation, Nadir continued, "You still go into SCI? I mean, you go into the System?"

"Yeah," said Corey. "That's still my job. Why?"

"Well, because…Never mind."

Corey tried to read between the lines. "Are you saying that he's back in there?"

"You tell me," Nadir replied.

"I haven't seen him." Corey didn't receive a response. "Will I?"

"I don't know, Corey. I'm sorry. I did my best for everyone, and that meant giving up a lot of control."

"Okay. Alice was worried. That's why I called."

"I don't have much information for her. Except that everyone out here should be safe from Erik now. If you find out anything, you can give me a call. I'm busy moving, so feel free to leave a message."

"Oh. Where are you moving?"

"I'd rather not give out that information. You understand."

"Uh. Sure." Corey could tell that Nadir was concerned about legal issues. They hung up soon after. Corey never tried to call back. He never told Alice about the conversation either. He didn't want to send her on a wild goose chase or give her false hope. He wished the whole issue would go away.

It did, for a little while.

Over the next months, Corey didn't socialize as much within the System. The fun of working for SCI had faded. His rose-colored glasses had fallen off, and being in the System was only his job. He tried to get more of a life in the real world, even signing up for a dating website and going on a couple of dates. They went well enough. At least he had an interesting career to talk about.

Life went on. The story of the Monster and Christine Daae slowly began to fade from the news. Occasionally, there would be an article questioning what had happened to Erik. Erik was still a very wanted murder, of course. But the public cared less and less, so the media did, too. Alice occasionally still asked Corey if he had heard anything. Corey said he hadn't. Maybe he never would.

Or not.

It was a Friday night, and Corey was in the System. He had finished checking up on some new cabins that SCI had programmed into the mountains, making sure there weren't glitches and that the scenery appeared realistic. He'd noted that some of the lighting coming through the trees had an irregular polka dot pattern. Otherwise, everything was up to standard. Over time, Corey was finding fewer and fewer glitches. It was a contrast to when he'd first started working at SCI. Back then, there were literally spaces where objects would morph into other objects, at least visually. Long ago, he'd shown one to Alice (which was technically against company rules) and she'd laughed and stuck her hand into the glitch, watching as her palm and fingers turned into a ripe banana.

Corey missed those days.

He headed over to the usual bar to see his friends. It had been about two weeks since he'd gotten together with them. It was darkening, and the streetlights had come on. As he approached the small brick building, he got a strange feeling in the pit of his stomach, a sensation that something was slightly off. He looked at his surroundings but didn't see anything unusual.

Pushing aside the feeling, Corey entered the bar. It was pretty crowded, and he recognized a lot of people. The sound of voices and glasses clinking filled the air. He saw Leigh first. She was sitting on a stool in the corner holding a chicken finger. She saw him and waved.

Corey waved back and approached. Alice was directly to the left of her. Ken was on the right of her - but not sitting directly beside her. Leigh's blonde head was in the way of the person sitting between them. Someone in a black t-shirt. A guy.

Corey's stomach started to drop. He pushed between several standing people and made his way to the corner. He turned his head so that he could see past Leigh.

And there was Erik. Young Erik. SCI Erik. Sitting there with a mug of pale beer in front of him.

Corey gaped. The rest of the bar faded into the background.

"Dude," said Ken. "Are you okay?"

Erik slowly looked up at Corey. Erik blinked. "Uh…hello?"

Corey was too stunned to speak. He stood there like an idiot, staring at Erik as the seconds ticked by.

Leigh laughed. "Corey, are you stoned?"

"If he is, he better share," stated Ken with a grin. "No holding out on us."

Alice poked him in the arm. "Corey? You in there, buddy?"

Finally, Corey snapped out of it. He swallowed and took a seat to the left of her.

"You okay?" asked Alice.

He didn't have a response. Ken was now talking to Erik and Leigh about a boating adventure. "So we're there for four nights. We run out of food because Blake ate all the hotdogs. So Arthur gets the idea to go fishing. And we don't even know if there's any fish in there. Or if fish exist at all at this place. But we do find some fishing rods."

"What about bait?" asked Erik.

"That was just it," said Ken with a grin. "No worms either. And then Amy pulls out this bag of gummy worms. So we thought – why not? Maybe fish like sugar."

Leigh giggled. "Did it work?"

"No," said Ken with an exaggerated sad face "No fish. So we ate gummy worms the rest of the day. We did see a seagull. But that's a lake, not the sea." He looked at Corey. "I hope you're taking notes on this disaster."

Erik tilted his head. "Why would he take notes?"

"He's in charge of city planning," stated Ken with a wink toward Corey.

Corey stared. It was like nothing had ever changed from months ago. Erik was here. They were friends with him. They knew not to talk about SCI around him. It was like when Erik had first arrived.

Then it dawned on him. Had Alice forgotten everything, their entire adventure in the real world?

Corey sharply looked at her. "Are you okay?" he softly asked.

"I'm fine," said Alice. "You're the one who looks like you've seen a ghost."

"Alice…What about Erik?" he whispered. "Don't you…Can't you…?" Frustration poured over him.

"What about him?" she asked, glancing at Erik as though his presence were the most normal thing in the world.

"Nothing," Corey muttered. He buried his overly warm face in his hands.

"What is wrong with you?" asked Ken.

"He is overwhelmed by the idea of supplying fish to your lake," stated Erik.

"I only wanted a few!" Ken exclaimed.

It was all joking, all fun. Everyone seemed happy. But Corey suddenly felt angry. How could it all go back to normal, just like that? Everything forgotten? Everything pushed aside? _This wasn't what SCI was supposed to be!_

He couldn't deal with it right then. Corey stood so quickly that he almost knocked the stool over. "I have to go. I'm sorry."

"What's wrong?" asked Leigh. "What's going on? Tell us."

"Nothing. I'm sorry." He started to walk away.

"He's strange," said Erik behind him. "What is wrong with him?"

Corey let his anger get the better of him. He whirled around. "What's wrong with _me_? What's wrong with _you_?!" he nearly shouted. "What the hell is wrong with you?!"

"Jesus Christ." Ken stood. "Chill out, dude. Have you lost your goddamned mind?"

Everyone was staring at Corey. Corey felt his face turn red. "I'm sorry," he muttered. "I'm sorry. I have to go. I'm sorry."

He turned around and ran out of there. The night air was cooler and felt good against his face. He inhaled and sought clarity as he walked down the street. He shook his head and looked at the false sky. "Is this how it's going to be now? You take memories away and give them back? And it's all fine?" he asked, loudly. "I can't do this forever! This is screwed up! It's wrong!"

"Corey!" A voice called to him from down the block.

He slowly turned. Alice.

She ran up to him. "Corey, what's wrong with you?"

How was he even supposed to explain everything from the beginning? Where was he supposed to start? What good would it do if her memory was only erased all over again?

"I'm stressed at work," he muttered. "My behavior was inappropriate. I'm sorry. Tell Erik I'm sorry." He walked forward again, shoulders hunched.

"Wait," she said. She hurried to keep up with him. "Corey…"

"Yeah?"

"Corey." Her voice trembled a little. "Something's…not right. I know it. I feel it, even if I can't figure out what it is."

He stopped walking and looked at her again. He felt a tingle of hope. "You know that?"

"Yes. I noticed it when I woke up one morning. I've felt it for the last few days. Like something is off, changed. Something's wrong. Things aren't what they seem. No one else seems to notice. But you do, don't you? That's what's wrong, isn't it?"

"Yes," he whispered.

"I think if you give me some details, maybe I'll remember the rest."

Corey glanced at the starry sky. Were they being watched? Who was in charge?

 _Who was God?_

He looked back at her. "Let's go back to my place," he said. "I want some privacy."

She nodded, and they hurried off into the night.

* * *

Sometimes Hope missed the glamour of SCI headquarters, the enormous building, glass walls, and constant activity.

This place - it looked like a dentist's office hidden in the woods. They even had an aquarium with four goldfish. Hope had wanted the location designed that way, though. She didn't want it looming over everything like a prison or a mental institution, attracting attention. If anyone stumbled across it, Hope wanted them to assume that people were getting cavities filled inside. There were still armed guards outside, though. She wasn't taking any chances.

Hope sat on a plush chair in a central room and waited for Daniel to come out. Her legs were tucked beneath her, and she wore a long white skirt. At least she could relax here. She could make it home, a fresh start. Another fresh start.

Finally, Daniel emerged, still in his lab coat. His eyes were tired. Maybe she was working him too hard.

"Well?" she asked. He looked up at her. "How are we doing this week? We finally got Erik plugged in. That's exciting right?"

"Yep." Daniel smiled. "And I've got him ninety percent worked out."

She raised an eyebrow. "Only ninety?"

Daniel shrugged. "I keep thinking he's completely in. But it's like last time. I'm almost there, and then this little wave jumps in his brain, triggering memories. I'll get there with some adjustments."

"Has he given you any trouble?" she asked. She'd fulfilled her promise, more because she wanted the world to forget about her and Nicholas than anything else. That stadium only reminded everyone of the horror. Originally, she had hoped to turn it into a giant SCI facility for people like Erik and Nicholas. Yet she had seen how the world had reacted to the idea of Erik in SCI and knew that dream was an impossibility. She only cared about her son now. The rest of the world could figure itself out.

"Nah," Daniel replied. "A little sass at first. But he seemed resigned to it." Daniel looked to the side. "It was almost like Erik wanted to go back in."

That didn't surprise Hope. "And Nicholas?" she eagerly continued. "I know we're only in the early stages, but have you seen any more progress?"

"Not a lot. What worked for Erik doesn't quite click for Nick."

"Why?"

Daniel looked uncomfortable. "Erik was complicated, but eventually we found the way forward. Erase the past. Add some good memories. Adjust a couple of hormones. Once Erik _thought_ that he was happy, thought he had a good life, his brain calmed. It's not perfect yet, but it works. But with Nick…if I try to increase happiness, he becomes manic. And not in a good way."

"Well, what do you plan to do about this?" she asked, trying to sound professional even as concern bubbled in the back of her mind. "What's next?"

"I'm going to approach it from a different angle. Increase his fear of punishment. Play with more hormones. Alter neurotransmitter pathways. I don't know yet. I'll get there. I wish I had a more competent medical team."

"I know," Hope said. "I asked Gabrielle Giry if she wanted a job."

"I trust her work. I don't trust some of her…acquaintances."

"Nadir Khan?" asked Hope with a smirk. "I don't think he's a problem now. In any case, Gabrielle was worried about leaving her daughter. She did want to work with Erik again. I told she'd have to be very discreet and pretty much abandon her current life. She's thinking about it. There are some risks, but we won't have to retrain her."

"Hm. Well, whatever," said Daniel. He stretched his arms over his head. "I'm heading home. I've been working sixty-three hours straight." He turned toward the door.

"You're going to have a third project soon."

He winced. "I'm barely getting any sleep as it is."

"We have to pay our dues," she murmured.

He looked at her. "Dues? I'm not sure I follow you."

"It's not important right now. Get some sleep. I'll tell you about it later."

He shrugged and left without a word. Daniel reminded her of Nicholas in some ways. Except that Daniel was content with a worthwhile project, with a goal. He was unemotional but not really a sadist.

Hope stood and took a deep breath. She glanced at her silver watch. She had fifteen minutes before her meeting, and it was time to pay her son a visit.

She walked down the white hallway and used a keycard to enter his room, bracing herself for another unpleasant exchange. The heavy door unlocked, and she pushed it open. Nicholas was strapped down into in a hospital bed by all four limbs. He had only a television for entertainment. Foreign nursing assistants (very well paid ones) attended to all his personal requirements. When he needed to be moved or required exercise, there was always an armed guard nearby.

Hope loved her son. She didn't trust her son.

"Hello, dear," she greeted him.

Nicholas stared up at her with unblinking green eyes.

"How are you?" she asked.

No response.

"Are you being good for Daniel?" she asked.

A hoarse laugh followed. "He gets frustrated easily."

Hope tilted her head. "Are you deliberately frustrating him?"

"I'm trapped in a bed."

"If you cooperate, everything will be easier."

"I'm lying here, staring at the ceiling. How much more cooperative can I possibly be?"

"Mentally cooperative," stressed Hope. "Emotionally cooperative. Relax your mind. Be open to this wonderful experience."

"This _wonderful_ experience is stupid."

Hope tensed. "Would you rather be in prison?"

"No."

"Then there you go."

"What's the point of this?"

"I explained everything to you many times. This is your second chance. This is true rehabilitation, more than you ever were going to get in that maximum security nightmare. You were too good for that place."

Nick stared off to the side. Prison had aged him. He looked more like thirty-six than twenty-six. And yet sometimes he still acted like a ten-year-old. "I'll play," he finally said. "I'll try. Just to make you happy, Mom. You never look happy anymore."

"I wonder why," muttered Hope. He didn't say anything. "Well, I won't stay too long. I wanted to check on you."

"What are your plans for the day?" he asked. From anyone else, it would have been a normal small talk question. But, coming from Nick, it sounded sarcastic.

Still, she answered. "I have a meeting with Erik."

"With the ugly motherfucker?"

Hope closed her eyes and was silent. He was trying to provoke her. He knew she wasn't fond of the "f" word. She knew not to indulge him with an argument.

"At least he knew how to have fun," Nicholas continued. "He cut the face off a correctional officer, didn't he? I'm kind of disappointed that you caught him."

 _Ignore him. This is sport to him._ "I see you're doing just fine, Nick. So I'm leaving now. I'll see you tomorrow. Try to be good for Daniel." She turned and headed for the door.

"Mom?" Now his voice was nearly sweet.

"What?"

"You have a stain on your shoulder. A brown one."

Hope looked down. He was correct. "Oh, thank you. I must have splashed coffee on it earlier."

"You're welcome. I know how you like to look immaculate." He smiled widely at her.

"Thank you." She left him there.

"Goodbye, Mom."

Hope shut the door behind her, and it instantly locked. She willed away the tightening in her stomach and the tension in her shoulders. Being around her son still unnerved her after all these years. She could tell it did the same to Daniel and the staff. They would have to get used to him.

But - now it was time for a happier meeting. Yes, she had to focus on the positive.

She walked down the hallways and to a room with several desktop computers. One of the programmers quickly helped her set up and made sure that the connection to the System was in working order. The screen appeared pixelated for a moment, and then quickly came together, her window into the other world. She was soon staring at an empty blue chair against a white wall. She waited impatiently.

Then Erik appeared and took a seat. Her Erik.

He looked uncertain, but he was definitely _her_ Erik. He was her creation.

"Hello, Mrs. Ivey," he said, blinking at her as though he wasn't certain that he recognized her.

"Hello, Erik," she said with a loving smile. "How are you, dear?"

"I'm…fine."

"That's wonderful. You're feeling well?"

"…Yes."

"Good. Are you ready to talk about your research?"

"Yes. I've had some success."

"Wonderful. Let's hear all about it."

Their conversation was calm and delightful. Hope felt cheery again.

Because - if she could change that twisted and disturbed creature into this nice young man - then surely she could do the same for her son.

Surely, with enough work, all darkness could transform into light.


	30. Chapter 30

How is everyone? Ready for the fall? I think I am. Anyone else see "It"? It was good scary fun :)

Hope you're still enjoying.

 **Read and Review!**

"What's his name?" asked Daniel, staring down at the unconscious twenty-something-year-old man who was lying on the stretcher. He'd been delivered to them the previous evening.

"That doesn't matter," said Hope. "As far as we're concerned, he's Patient A."

"Uh. Who is Patient A?"

"He was on death row for murdering a convenience store clerk during a robbery. He has no friends nor family. And he volunteered for this as an alternative to lethal injection."

"What the hell?" asked Daniel. "Why do I need to put him in the System? I don't have the resources to program—"

"I don't want him in SCI," murmured Hope.

"Then what _do_ you want?"

"It's not about what I want. It's about what _they_ want. They want you to change his memories. Make him believe that he's had a wonderful life with a loving family." Hope paused. "And then they want you to wake him up with those memories intact."

Daniel stepped backwards. "That's never been done. Maybe a single memory here or there. But an entire life?" He shook his head. "I can't do it."

"Try," said Hope.

"It's never been done. It might kill him. The stress on his nervous system might kill him."

"Try," Hope repeated. "It's how we pay our dues. He was going to die anyway, right?"

Daniel glared. "If how we pay our dues is me going to prison for first degree murder, then I'm out."

"You won't go to prison. We're heavily protected by some very high-powered individuals. Just try. See what happens. Maybe you'll be successful. Think of how famous you'll be if it works. And this young man might even be better off, if he thinks he had a good life. Right?" Hope smiled. "Try."

"And you will take full responsibility if this goes wrong?" Daniel asked.

"Full responsibility," she agreed.

Daniel rolled his eyes. "Fine. I'll try. I really hate taking on projects that aren't going to be successful."

"Thank you."

Patient A was sentenced to death anyway. How was capital punishment ethical? This was a much better opportunity for him. And if they could change the mind of Patient A, then they could also fix Patient B, Patient C, Patient D, etc.

Of course, those in power didn't care about that. They only wanted to know if memories could be erased and replaced.

And Hope would answer that question for them. As she saved her own son at the same time.

* * *

Christine was invited to work at the theater four days a week, mostly helping Ashley with administrative tasks. She would reach out to potential donors, try to find answers if the construction workers ran into any issues, and answer the front office phones. It wasn't the highlight of her life, but it was nice to have something to focus on, to distract her from the occasional chaos in her head.

Everyone was very nice to her. Maybe too nice. She couldn't help but wonder if they all thought she would explode or start hysterically crying at any moment. Little did they know that she only did that in private.

She signed up for a class at the community college for next semester, a core biology class, figuring that would be another simple step forward. She felt a little more normal and functional, but she was still like a robot, going through the motions of the day.

Her nightmares were the worst part. She had dreams about being chased by a faceless shadow. She would run and run, around city buildings, through the woods, down twisted hallways that never led anywhere. She would try to scream, but no sound could escape her throat. Just as the shadow reached out to grab her shoulder with its shapeless fingers, she would wake up. Then she could scream. She would sit up in bed, panting and frantically looking around her dark room. Those were the moments when she missed Raoul the most. She wanted someone to hug her and comfort her, tell her everything would be fine.

But that wasn't a good enough reason to date someone. That was a good reason to buy a teddy bear.

The other most common dream involved fingers in her hair. Long fingers combing through her tresses, the tips massaging her scalp. She never turned around to see who it was. She let them continue because it felt nice. And then the hands would move to her shoulders and then fall down to her arms, lower and lower until she woke up. Her cheeks would be warm.

There were other dreams. She would hear songs in her mind, sometimes the piano and sometimes a voice. Sometimes dreams of falling. Some of drowning. And some of just sitting in darkness, waiting for nothing for hours on end. She awoke crying from those.

She tried not to think of her dreams during the daytime. But people refused to let her forget.

Toward the end of her shift on a Friday, Ashley suddenly dropped a piece of paper onto her keyboard. Christine looked up from an e-mail she was composing and glanced at it. It was a flyer. _Trudy's Women's Self-Defense Classes – Take Charge of Your Safety!_

"What's this?" asked Christine.

"I saw it at my gym," Ashley explained. "I thought I'd grab it for you." She gave Christine a smile and walked away.

"Okaaaay," Christine murmured to herself. She looked over the information. Classes were on Tuesdays and Thursdays from 6:30 to 7:45 PM.

She knew why Ashley had given her the flyer. Everyone assumed _he_ was still out there.

But Christine knew that he was gone. She felt it in her blood and bones.

On the other side of the flyer was an advertisement for a band, _Four Angry Walruses._ There was a scowling walrus wearing sunglasses, sitting behind a set of drums. Christine giggled. "Hey Ashley. What is this?"

Ashley poked her head out of her office and laughed. "Oh! I didn't mean to print that on the back. They're a band that's coming to town in a couple of weeks. I might go with my boyfriend if I get bored enough. Like really bored."

"Really, really bored," Christine agreed with a teasing smile. She turned the flyer back over.

After mulling it over for several days, she went to the self-defense class. Christine knew that she was nearly alone in the world. She walked to bus stops at night with only a tiny can of pepper spray. The evenings became darker and darker, colder and colder. Strange men with strange eyes watched her as she walked by them.

There was no Raoul to call or run home to.

And _he_ wasn't watching from the shadows.

That was why she went to the class.

As soon as she stepped into the gym, wearing a pink t-shirt and neon green athletic shorts, the murmuring began. There were about ten other women in the class, most of them a little older than she was.

"Hello, Christine!" Trudy smiled. She was a very tan and muscular blonde woman with her hair tied back in a tight ponytail. "I'm so glad you're here."

"Thanks," said Christine. She took a seat next to a redhead. Everyone was giving her awkward smiles. "Hello," she said with a wave. "I'm glad to be here." Eventually, the other women stopped staring, and Trudy began the class.

Christine learned some great moves over the next couple of weeks - how to block someone's hand if they tried to strike her, how to use her legs to give her more force, kicks to the groin, fighting from the ground, how to bring her palm up against someone's nose. Everyone was very encouraging, even though she sometimes felt like one of the physically weakest in the class.

She wished, though, that people would let her move forward and stop making assumptions. After her sixth class, when almost everyone was gone, Christine had crouched down to tie her tennis shoe. Trudy approached her. In a soft voice, Trudy said, "You're doing great, Christine."

Christine looked up and smiled. "Thanks!"

Trudy lowered her voice to a near whisper. "Now you'll know how to fight him, huh?"

She felt her heart skip a beat. She finished tying her shoe and stood up. "Huh?"

"If he's out there, now you can fight back."

Christine shifted. "He's not out there," she replied.

"But he might be, right? Now you'll show him."

Christine shook her head and felt herself become irritated. "He's not out there," she insisted. "And…and he took down three officers who had _guns._ I could become a ninja, and it wouldn't be enough to fight him."

Trudy looked a little pale. "You don't know that. You-"

"I do know that."

"You-"

"I didn't come here because of him. I came here because of the rest of the world. I came here for me. And thank you for everything you've taught me. It's helped. I feel better walking alone at night."

It took Trudy a second to speak. "You're welcome," she finally said. Her voice became a little less confident as she added, "After you disappeared, the enrollment in my women's self-defense class doubled. Enrollment in yoga dropped."

"Oh." Christine suddenly understood. This conversation wasn't really about her. Trudy was afraid of _him._ All of these women were. And they wanted to feel like they had a chance. "He's gone," Christine said, feeling the familiar pang in her chest. "And, despite what the media would have you believe, he doesn't randomly go around hurting women. You don't have to worry about him. I promise."

"Oh," said Trudy, staring at Christine as though she were an alien.

Christine turned and left. _Why do I always feel the need to defend him? No one ever understands. I don't even understand…_

While she was glad to have taken the classes, Christine knew she wouldn't pursue it as a major hobby. She didn't want a black belt in karate. It wasn't quite her _thing._

She had her _thing._

And, finally, her thing happened. Management wanted her to sing two songs on the theater's opening night, anything she wanted. She easily picked _Unchained Melody_ and _his_ song.

She practiced by herself in her apartment, hoping none of the neighbors complained. Ashley offered her a vocal instructor, but Christine politely declined. She had all the instruction that she would ever need.

It was nerve wracking to sing in front of an audience after everything that had happened. Singing was also tied to an extraordinary amount of pain and confusion. Still, Christine was determined to go forward. She wore a simple black skirt with stockings and a lavender sweater. Her hands shook as she walked up onto the stage and to the microphone. Looking down, she could see sympathy in the eyes of the audience. That wasn't what she wanted to see.

Unfortunately, she didn't help herself in that area either. She'd done so well not crying in front of anyone, but she couldn't help herself that night. Tears dripped from her eyes during the second song, _his_ song. Still, she sang well. She sang very well. _He_ would have been pleased.

It was a surreal experience. She could hear her own voice in her head as her vision blurred. The lights were a little too bright and warm. It took her several seconds to even realize that she had finished singing. Applause rang in her ears. Everyone was standing. There was still sympathy on their faces, but they looked happy, too. And proud of her. Christine forced a smile and backed up. "Thank you," she said. "Thank you so much."

On unsteady legs, she walked back down the stairs. The sound technician guy gave her a thumbs-up as she passed.

"Good job," someone else said.

"Thank you," she said over and over.

She planned on finding a seat to watch the other performances. There was supposed to be a comedy skit and a couple of Shakespeare readings, among other things. Her cheeks were moist, and she felt a little overwhelmed. She wanted to make herself inconspicuous for a little while, to blend in with the crowd.

After getting a drink at the water fountain, she started to head back toward the auditorium. Someone suddenly approached. "Christine?"

She jumped and looked up. A guy. She didn't know him and instinctively stayed at a cautious distance, looking both ways to make sure other people were nearby. He was probably about ten years older than she was, early thirties, and wearing jeans and a white dress shirt. It didn't look like he was comfortable dressing up. He had slightly shaggy brown hair down to the middle of his cheeks and stubble on his chin, light green eyes. Relatively attractive but a little…rougher?

"Um, yeah?" she asked, her mouth dry.

"Hey! I hope you don't mind, but I wanted to meet you." He reached out to shake her hand.

She took it. He had a firm grip. "Oh. Hi." She still felt a little out of it from her performance.

"I'm Tom."

"Nice to meet you," she said.

"Your voice is amazing. So fresh yet kind of classical. It makes me think of the 1920's – in a great way."

"Thanks," she said with a blush. "Um. Are you from here or...?"

"No. I'm here with my band. You probably hasn't heard of us, as we're not really out there yet. _Four Angry Walruses_."

Her eyes widened. "I saw your flyer. I haven't heard your music, though. What do you play?"

"Guitar and sometimes vocals."

"That's cool."

"You're a much better singer than me, though."

"Heh. Where are you from?"

"We started out in San Diego. Then moved to L.A. for a while because that's what everyone in a band does before they face reality." She softly laughed. "We've bounced around the country. Stayed in New York for a couple months but could barely afford to breathe the air there. So we're down here for another month or so."

"Neat. I'd love to travel more."

"It is fun, but I've slept in a few more creepy hotels than I'd like to remember."

"Really?"

"Yeah. One time, I woke up, and this homeless man was standing over me. Just standing there and staring at me while I slept. I don't know if I've ever screamed so loudly. And I was sleeping naked, but that's probably more than you wanted to know."

"Oh my God." She laughed again, feeling a little more at ease with the conversation. He was treating her like a normal person, which was more than she could say for a lot of people these days.

"Well, hey," he began. "Would you want to have dinner some night? We'll be here for a couple more weeks."

"Dinner," she repeated, suddenly uncomfortable again. "Um. I…"

"Not a date or anything," Tom quickly added. "I like to meet other musicians, talk about the craft. Learn from each other. It's completely casual."

"Um." Her thoughts were racing. Maybe it would make her feel normal again. There were no expectations. She could maybe make a new friend. "Okay. Sure. In a public place, right?"

"No, in a creepy hotel." Her eyes widened, but he was teasing her. "Yeah, of course. You can pick the restaurant."

"Okay."

He grinned. "Great. Can I get your number? I'll text you."

She gave it to him. He told her again that he enjoyed her voice and then walked off.

Her father's words of warning suddenly returned to her – _Never date a guy in a band, Christine. Stay far away from them. They are nothing but trouble._

Christine wryly smiled to herself.

 _Oh, Dad. If only you knew – guys in bands look pretty tame right now._ _Even Angry Walruses look tame._

She walked off to find her seat.

Oh, well. It wasn't even a date.

* * *

"Mom, could I come home for a couple of days?" He turned to look out the window. It was a very bright and sunny day. A man and a woman passed on their bicycles.

A long pause followed. "Erik, it's just not a good time for you to come home. We're remodeling the house, and your bedroom is a construction zone. And you have your job there! And your friends. Why would you want to come home?"

"I just…want to. It would only be for a week."

"I'm sorry, sweetheart. Maybe in a month? Does that sound good?"

"Yes. Fine." Erik sighed.

"Is everything okay there?"

"It's fine." That was the truth. Nothing was wrong. Nothing serious, anyway.

"All right. Well, call me if you need anything."

"Okay."

"I love you. Take care."

"I love you, too." His voice sounded hollow as he said the three words that were supposed to mean so much. "Bye, Mom." Erik hung up the phone. He wasn't sure why he wanted out of that town, except that he had felt unsettled lately. For no reason at all.

Maybe he wasn't getting enough sleep. Mrs. Ivey had been working him fairly hard. He had been in the laboratory until eight in the evening yesterday, going over charts and graphs until his vision blurred.

But there were other weird things, too. He had gone to a volleyball game last Saturday. Alice was there, and she would not stop staring at him. It had made him very uncomfortable. What the hell was her problem?

But worst of all were the dreams. He had them several times a week, usually in the middle of the night. He dreamt that he was strapped down into a chair and couldn't escape. He would struggle and fight and try to move his limbs. He would try to scream but no sound would come out.

And then, sometimes, he would have a sort of dream on top of another dream. Dreams of music and a female's voice. Dreams of warmth – those were the best. He felt as though he were with someone, someone who smelled wonderful and had soft hair and warm skin, someone whom he never wanted to leave.

He would nearly forget that he was strapped down as he sought out the source of the joy. Then he would realize something, something horrific, and he would snap back like a rubber band, escape the truth, the something that he did not want to know. Horror filled his chest cavity. He opened his mouth to scream one final time.

Then he would wake up in a cold sweat, safe in his bed. With no torture chair.

And with no warmth or softness.

The memories of the dream would faded, but the feelings of terror, fear, and shame wouldn't.

He didn't want to sleep anymore. He avoided it as much as possible.

After hanging up with his mother, Erik looked around his apartment. He felt a little bored and didn't want to dwell on his thoughts. His gaze swept over the dust-covered piano. He wasn't in the mood to play it. He rarely ever was these days.

His eyes finally fell on a stack of video games. Ken had given him those, along with a console. There was a war game where the player could shoot people and a fantasy game where the player could cast magic spells.

 _Well, why not?_

Erik set everything up, plugging the wires into their proper locations. He turned on the T.V. screen. He put the war game into its slot. He picked up the cold controller as loud battle music filled the room. The graphics and sound wrapped his brain into a comfortable cocoon, and he was able to forget everything for a while. He settled into his role as a soldier of the future, fighting against the armies of a cruel dictator.

When Erik finally looked up from the game, it was almost dark outside.

Erik blinked. He laughed at himself. Ken was right. This was a time killer. Perfect.

He turned off the game, stretched his arms over his head, and yawned. He made himself a frozen pasta and sauce meal in the microwave and ate it in the living room, as an action movie played on the television.

Then he spent the next five hours trying to avoid sleeping.

Of course, sleep won in the end. Fortunately, he didn't have the dream of being trapped.

This time, he only dreamt of a song, circling around and around in his mind.

He knew to keep at a distance from it. He knew to stay away from the Siren.

But he could listen for a few moments and then return to his cold bed.

* * *

Alice had never forgotten about Erik until SCI had forced her to do so. Even after she returned to her old life, Erik had stayed in the back of her mind. She worried about what would happen to him, whether he would end up dead. Or wind up hurting anyone else, including Christine Daae.

Then, one morning, Alice forgot everything and remembered a lie. She had false memories of SCI Erik always being there, of interacting with him for the past several months and knowing nothing about his real terrifying self. Still, she'd had the strange feeling that something was off, out of place, even as she chatted with Erik in the bar as though nothing had ever happened. She'd felt wrong for the last week.

Corey told her everything, and none of it was a surprise. Real memories passed smoothly back into her mind as though they had never left at all. SCI hadn't done a thorough job of suppressing them, probably because they came from the real world. With all the troubling thoughts, though, came the realization that Erik was alive. He was also back in the happiest place that he could be. Her heart felt relieved.

"We can't tell him," Alice said that night, as they sat in Corey's living room with grim expressions. "We have to leave it alone. It's the best thing for him."

Corey still wasn't convinced. "This is pretty messed up," he said. "Are you sure this is right?"

"It's what I wanted. It's the best outcome."

"It still seems messed up."

"There's no alternative," Alice insisted. "What do you want to do? Tell everyone the truth and freak them out? Get Erik kicked out of the System? God knows what would happen to him. They might…" Alice swallowed. "They might kill him. We have to leave this alone."

"All right." Corey reluctantly agreed. "What should I do?"

"You don't have to worry about it. I'll keep an eye on him. I'll make sure he's okay."

"This doesn't have to be your responsibility."

"I want to do it. You don't. In some strange way, I still think of him as a friend, like a little brother almost – although…" She sadly laughed and shook her head. "Saying that makes no sense now. I don't know. But I'll watch him."

And Alice did. She observed Erik from a distance for a little while. He seemed okay. At the volleyball game, he interacted with other people. He was a little reserved, but SCI Erik had always been that way.

She didn't see too much of Erik after that, only once when he was probably walking to work. His head was down, and he was staring at the sidewalk. Alice reluctantly decided that she needed to reach out a little more. The anger she'd had regarding his cruelty in the real world had faded by that point. She knew that this person, this Erik, was not the same as the other. It also made Alice feel a little better knowing that Christine had been released unharmed.

Whether Christine had been released voluntarily – well, maybe Alice would never know that.

She came to Erik's apartment one afternoon and knocked on the door. She could see through the blinds that it was dark in there.

Erik answered quickly. He squinted in the daylight. "Alice?"

"Hi," she said. "I, uh, wanted to check on you. See how it's going."

"I'm fine," said Erik. He seemed a little annoyed.

"Great." She shifted. "What are you up to?"

"I'm playing one of Ken's games. I beat it in normal mode, so now I'm trying the most difficult mode."

"Oh. That's fun. How's everything else going?"

"Fine." Erik blinked at her.

Alice wasn't sure if everything was fine. "Well, hey. You know, we should have another movie night."

"Oh. Yeah." Erik glanced to the side. "I don't remember the last one very well."

"Me neither. So we'll finish watching _Jurassic Park_. And then there's the sequel."

"A sequel?" Erik softly asked.

"Yeah! You'll like it. Lots of action and dinosaurs."

"Okay. Yeah."

Alice was relieved that he agreed to it so quickly. Something seemed a little off with him. Not in a scary way – but…he seemed so lonely over here. He didn't seem quite well.

She set a date and time, 7 PM on a Friday evening. She told him not to worry about bringing food, as she'd order a pizza. Erik was fine with all of it. He didn't appear exactly excited, but this Erik had never been the type to be overly enthusiastic about anything. Not like the real Erik – who took 'gentlemen prefer blondes' to a whole new level.

Alice was a little worried that he would forget. But Erik showed up that evening promptly at 7. She nervously smiled as she led him into her freshly cleaned living room. She brought out the pepperoni pizza and some paper plates. Erik sat in the armchair again. She turned on the movie and set it to around the point where they'd last turned it off, before the evening had melted down into a lasagna-covered disaster. Alice still got chills whenever she thought about that night.

She plopped onto the sofa with her plate of pizza. She ate and barely paid attention to the movie, watching Erik out of the corner of her eye. He stared at the screen, appearing to be almost hypnotized by it. He didn't flinch at the scary scenes. He ate a few bites of pizza. He yawned once.

"Did you like it?" she asked at the end, as the helicopter flew over the water and the famous music played.

"Yes," said Erik. "It was interesting." He smiled slightly. "It would be excellent if there were a real dinosaur park."

Alice laughed. "Erik, did you learn nothing from that movie?"

"They simply needed better fences," he explained.

Alice was suddenly reminded as to why she had enjoyed being around this Erik in the first place. He had a quirky sense of humor. Before turning on the sequel, she asked, "So how is everything else going? You doing well? Enjoying work?"

"Yes. It's fine."

"Are you sure?" she pressed. He was so difficult to read.

"Yes." A pause. "Except…"

"Except what?"

He tilted his head. "Sometimes…sometimes it all seems a little pointless, doesn't it? Life, I mean."

That wasn't quite what she expected him to say. But maybe Erik having an existential crisis made perfect sense. It took her a second to reply. "Well. I guess sometimes. Everyone feels that way sometimes. You need to find things that you like to do. Be around people more often. That should help."

"Yes." He looked down. "I haven't been sleeping well."

"You haven't?"

"No. There are dreams…."

"About what?"

Erik should his head. "I don't want to talk about it right now. Let's watch the movie." He stared forward, jaw clenched.

Now wasn't the time to push him. She wanted him to trust her. At least Erik seemed calm. Alice turned on the sequel. She closed the pizza box, sat back on the sofa, and watched. After about twenty minutes, she looked at Erik. Her eyes widened.

He was asleep. He was curled up in the armchair, fast asleep. His forehead was slightly crinkled.

When the movie ended, she started to wake him up. "Hey, Er-" She stopped.

She stood over him, hesitating and rubbing her arm.

After a moment, she turned off the television and all but one of the lights in the living room. She left him alone. He looked like he wanted to be there.

Alice went to her bedroom, shutting the door behind her. Her mind argued with itself-

 _It's dark and late, and there is technically a murderer sleeping in my house._

 _That Erik isn't a murderer. He eats pizza and plays video games._

 _But somewhere in there…_

 _He's not going to do anything. He doesn't even remember that life. You're more dangerous than he is._

 _But—_

 _He can't even literally hurt you here. Duh. Just scare you to death._

Alice went to bed.

At around 2 AM, after sleeping uneasily, she got up to check on him. Erik was still fast asleep. She went back to bed.

At 5 AM, she got up again to check on him. Erik was gone by then.


	31. Chapter 31

Slightly shorter chapter here. I finally got to see Phantom in NYC, and that gave my muse a boost. Thank you all for your continuous support.

 **Read and Review!**

 _What to wear?_

Christine stared at her closet for nearly ten minutes. It had been a while since she had done something like this. She wanted to look like a normal girl going on a casual outing. She finally picked a pair of black leggings and an oversized pine green sweater, then grabbed dangling earrings with black hearts on the bottom. When she was finished, Christine glanced in the mirror. That worked.

Tom had texted her, and she'd chosen a medium-priced hamburger place. Despite her dwindling bank account balance, she was going to make sure to pay her own way. Tom seemed relaxed about all of it. That was great because she didn't know if she could deal with intensity right now.

She arrived first and slid into a tall wooden booth. There were neon signs from the sixties all over the walls, advertising products like soda and cleaning solutions. The restaurant was mostly full, the air filled with conversation and a few cries from babies. A waiter came by, and she ordered a Dr. Pepper and curly fries.

Tom walked in about five minutes later, wearing nearly the same clothes from before. She waved and gave him an uncertain smile. He waved back and slid in across from her. "Hey," he said. "Glad you could come. How are you?"

"I'm good," she replied.

"You look great."

"Thanks."

"Have you ordered yet?" he asked, browsing the menu.

"Yeah. But I just wanted fries and soda. I'm not that hungry." This whole outing had made her nervous.

"Sounds good to me. Ike, our drummer, ordered sausage pizza in the middle of the afternoon, so I'm still full. I think he had the munchies."

She laughed and tried to picture the world that Tom inhabited. It seemed distant from her own. "I see."

Tom continued, "So Christine. How long have you been singing?"

"Oh." She looked down. "My dad got me lessons when I was younger. Those stopped when he died, and we didn't have much money. I worked at the theater so that I could be closer to it - to performing, I mean. But…" She trailed off.

Tom tilted his head. "But you must have picked it up again because you're obviously not a beginner."

"I…did," she slowly replied. "I had recent lessons."

"Great." He paused as though waiting for her to go on. She didn't. "I first saw you on Youtube. There was some kind of, like, projection of you on a wall and you were singing. And I'm like: 'Wow, that girl has an awesome voice.' A couple days later, I showed the video to a friend. And that's when I learned that you, uh, had a lot going on."

"I guess you could say that."

"I'm sorry that you went through all that."

"Thanks." She folded her arms up against her chest and cleared her throat. "I don't really want to talk about it."

"Sure, sure. I understand. Let's get back to music. I was wondering what your inspiration was."

"I don't know." She shrugged. "What's yours? Let's talk about you."

"Me? Oh. I don't know." Tom leaned back and looked to the side. "Just hearing everything come together, I guess. When you start a new song, you have all this chaos, all these instruments. For weeks, it sounds like it's going to be terrible. I'm ready to quit. And become an accountant like my parents wanted." She laughed. "And - then it's not a disaster. It works somehow. I love that. But there's other things that can inspire me. You know, love. A friend who passed away. It can be anything."

She nodded. "Yeah. It's not always simple."

"Exactly. So there's my answer. I wanted to ask you about that song you sing. The original one. Did you write it?"

Christine flinched. Her fries and soda arrived at that moment, and she thanked the waiter. Tom kept his eyes on her, awaiting her response. "No, I didn't write it. I'm not really a composer."

"Then who did?"

"It really doesn't matter. Why?"

"Well, I'd like to contact them."

Christine's eyes widened. She felt a sinking sensation. "You want that song. You want rights to it."

'No, I just-"

"That's why you wanted to see me. You can't have it." She told a lie. "I've already made it mine. Legally."

"Woah." Tom laughed and rubbed his head. "I didn't mean to upset you. It's a really great song. It should be out there."

"You _can't_ have it." She started to stand.

"Wait. It's not just the song, okay? You singing it – that's what makes it awesome. I'm not going to sing it; that'd sound like crap. I want _you_ to sing the song. What if you were to tour with us a little bit?"

"In a band?" she asked with disbelief.

"Not quite. You'd be a feature. You'd have your own part with some light accompaniment."

She shook her head. "You want me to be an attraction? The kidnapped girl on tour."

"Come on. Christine-"

"That'll attract more people to your concerts."

"Jesus. Will you hold on a second? I know you've been through a lot, but could you hear me out?"

"Fine." She slowly sat back down, her heart pounding rapidly. Her head was literally hot. She felt extraordinarily uncomfortable.

Tom leaned forward. He lowered his voice. "You're right. That is what people know you for. Being kidnapped. And they always will unless you give them another reason to notice you. You don't want to sing with us? Fine. Sing on your own. People will still come to see 'the kidnapped girl' at first. But if you're good, then they'll come to see you sing. You'll be the girl who sings well. You have a gimmick. Use it until you don't need it."

She gave a short, dry laugh. "You're kind of an opportunist."

"You sort of have to be in this business. But you're good, Christine. I wanted to see you. I get goosebumps when I hear you sing that one song. I think you have the chance to be great."

"I don't know. I'll have to think about all this."

"Why don't you come listen to us one night? Then decide."

"Maybe," she murmured. She picked up a fry and nibbled on it. She looked directly at him. "You have to promise not to touch that song. No changes. No variations. It stays like it is."

"I won't. I don't want to. It's a perfect piece of art." Tom paused. "After I heard you sing it, I tried to look up the lyrics online. They didn't exist there yet so I replayed your video and wrote them down. I studied them for a while. I felt kind of messed up afterwards. It's a pretty dark song, isn't it?"

"You have no idea," said Christine, feeling a heaviness in her chest.

"Maybe not. But think about it - coming to see a performance, I mean."

"I will."

They chatted a little longer after that. Tom told her about forming his band during his first year in college, giving up on it for a while, and then going back to it. He had also worked as a lifeguard, a waiter, a constructions worker, and an elf (for one Christmas at the mall). She sensed that that he had a few secrets of his own as he was vague about his personal life. She didn't pry and neither did he.

Toward the end, Tom said, "I hope you'll give me a call. If you decide not to, it was nice to meet you. Keep singing. You have the face and the voice and the backstory. Use it." Tom got up and left her there. Christine felt a little shaken. She didn't trust him, but there was truth in some of what he'd said.

She went home and got ready for bed.

That night, she had the shadow dream. The faceless silhouette was chasing her through a maze of dressing rooms with reflective mirrors. She could see her own terrified face, multiplied a thousand times, as she ran. She turned down a distorted hall with a red and blue Persian carpet. The swirls and spirals blended together and vibrated. The corridor went on forever. Her heart beat wildly.

She ran out a door and into another hall. Here, there were ten doors, ten possible escapes. She ran toward the fifth door. She reached out to grab the knob.

A strange feeling came over her, a realization, and she stopped. She stopped running and turned around. She was so tired, so sick of being scared. What if she just let it get her? What if this ended a different way? Christine turned around to face the shadow and spread out her arms. It flew toward her, closer and closer.

It finally reached her. She braced herself for whatever was coming. And then…

Then it simply passed over her. Like a normal shadow. Her vision momentarily darkened and then returned to normal. She shivered. The shadow disappeared. She was left standing in the empty room with the doors, waiting for nothing, running from nothing. There was nothing to be scared of.

She woke up in her bedroom with a clammy forehead, covered in shadows that could do nothing.

Instead of relief, she felt sudden grief. She curled up into a fetal position and started to cry. In the nighttime, it was more difficult to guard her thoughts.

 _I want to touch him._

She couldn't think beyond that. She had no other desires or more practical wishes. Just - _I want to touch him again._

 _Is there any way to…_

 _No. No, there's not. He's where he's supposed to be. He's happy there. He was so miserable here, so angry and broken, and now he can have a good life. And so can you. You have your life back. You have to be okay. Please be okay. Please be okay. You're okay. You're okay._

She buried her face into her tear-soaked pillow.

Music was her lifesaver in a sea of untouchable shadows.

In the morning, she called Tom and said she'd come to a performance.

* * *

Erik sat on the floor with the video game controller in his hand. It was nearly six in the evening. He had been playing all day, defeating boss after boss, monster after monster. Claws and tentacles and sharp teeth. Magic spells and gunfire. The hours blended together in a jumble of vibrant graphics and digital sounds.

His head felt stuffed up, like he had a cold except that he wasn't congested. He couldn't think well. He didn't remember what he'd done yesterday or the day before. He felt empty, and the feeling was getting worse every week.

Erik rubbed his temples. He dropped the controller and stood up. Slowly, he reached out to pick up the phone. It was cold in his hand. He called his mother again. It rang four times before she answered. "Hello?"

"Hi Mom," he said, his voice nearly catching.

"Hi, Erik! I wasn't expecting to hear from you today. How's it going?"

"It's…I don't know."

"Do you need something?"

He hesitated. "I really, really want to come home. If you don't want me in the house, I'll stay in a hotel. I don't care."

His mother sighed. "Erik, what is going on with you? Why do you want to come home? It's boring here."

"Because I want to leave this town. If you won't let me come home, I'll go somewhere else. Another city. Another country. Anywhere."

"What is wrong with you? Why do you want to leave?" She sounded upset.

"Because I…" He looked out the window. The sun was setting. He wasn't even sure what day it was. The only event he could remember was going to Alice's house. How long ago had that been? "Because I feel trapped here."

"That's so silly. You're not trapped. You're free."

"I am not." He could feel it in his chest, a growing claustrophobia.

"Erik." His mother's tone was suddenly very firm. "I think you need to go to bed."

"It's too early."

"I think you need some sleep. I think that'd solve a lot, don't you? You're not getting enough rest."

"No, it has nothing to do with that!"

"Get some sleep and call me back in the morning. Okay? Then we can see if you still want to come home."

"Fine," he muttered. "Whatever."

"I'll talk to you soon. Love you."

He didn't even say it back. He was too angry. "Bye."

He hung up and stared out the window again. The only place he felt somewhat comfortable was Alice's apartment. Or maybe he just liked Alice because she was nice. She had even let him sleep in her living room. But he couldn't bother her again. He didn't want to annoy her.

Why did he feel like this? What was wrong with him? He was in an apartment, not a cage. Wasn't he?

He walked over to the piano and pushed a key. The sound of a high C rang into the air. He took a seat at the bench. He pressed all ten of his fingers against the keys. A distorted chord assaulted his ears. He didn't even know if he knew how to play. Did he ever know? He closed his eyes, sat up straight, and relaxed his shoulders.

Silence.

And then his hands began to move. He began to play a song that he couldn't name. He didn't remember the lyrics or where it had come from. He simply let his hands work, like a robot who had been programmed.

His brain finally felt a spark of life. He longed for something that he couldn't define, a warmth and a belonging. He hadn't really _felt_ anything for a long time. He wanted more of it. But, when the song was over, he had nothing left. He could think of no more music to play. His hands dropped into his lap.

Silence.

He took his mother's advice and went to bed. The room was dark. Without even undressing, he lay on top of the comforter and fell asleep quickly. He closed his eyes and dreamed.

He felt the chair beneath him. He was trapped in the torture chair. He struggled as he always did to escape the straps that held him down. Flashes lit up his mind – of a tall building that overlooked a dark concrete city, a strand of blonde hair, a smile, a voice. He tried to touched it…to touch her. A name on the edge of his brain. The most beautiful name in the world.

Voices broke into his thoughts. They were distant yet close, like an echo. A man's voice. "Yeah, we're going to have to up the dosage."

A woman's voice. It was familiar, too. "Well, do it then. While he's sleeping. He's becoming very unstable. It's been worse over the past few days."

"I've done what I can to keep him functional," replied the male. "We're heading into territory where he's going to be impaired, to the extent that the other residents may notice."

"Do it for now," said the woman. "We can fix it all later. Just get him stabilized. I'd rather have him impaired than trying to escape."

Terror gripped _him._ Caught between two worlds and two minds, he struggled. He didn't care who he was or wasn't. He wanted out. Death had to be better than this imprisonment.

The man spoke again. To _him_ this time. "All right, Erik. Let's get you all figured out here. Are you awake? This might hurt a little."

 _He_ felt a stinging pain engulf his skull. Colors flashed together in the darkness. He tried to scream. He saw her face. For a second, he knew her name. He knew he loved her more than anything in the whole world. In either world.

Then…through the agony and darkness and the noise and the captivity…he remembered exactly what he had done to her. He remembered the horror that he had put her through. That was the truth he always tried to escape. That was why he deserved this. That was why he couldn't exist, shouldn't exist.

He let go and fell back into the opening void.

"There," said the man. "There you go, Erik. Back to sleep. This will all be a bad dream. There you go."

* * *

Erik had disappeared again.

Alice didn't want to bother him constantly. She knew he liked his privacy. She tried to focus on her own life. Still, after not seeing any sign of him for two whole weeks, she was worried. He didn't answer her two calls.

Finally, on a Saturday, she went over to his apartment and knocked on the door. No one answered. She tried again. Still nothing. After hesitating, she twisted his doorknob. The door was unlocked. It creaked as she slowly opened it, revealing an empty entryway. "Erik?" she called. "Are you in here?" Her heart started to beat a little faster.

There was no response, but she did hear music and some weird beeps. A video game. Alice cautiously continued forward to the living room. She blinked several times in surprise. Erik was sitting in the middle of the carpet, playing a game. There were a couple plates of food next to him, potato chips and cold pizza. Several empty soda bottles were strewn across the coffee table.

"Erik," she said. He didn't look at her. "Erik!"

Finally, his head slowly turned around. Alice nearly stepped backwards. His eyes were so dull, so empty. His lips were expressionless. His skin was pale. There was no life in his handsome face. "Are you okay?" she asked, her voice shaking.

"Yes. Alice." His vowels were slightly drawn out. So her named sounded like _Aaaliice_. "I'm fine."

He was most certainly not fine. "Here," she said. "Let's turn this off for a moment. Can you save your game?"

He just stared at her. She gently pried the controller from his limp hands. She saved the game and switched the television off. Erik watched her without reacting.

She turned to him. She put a hand on his shoulder and tried to maintain eye contact. "Erik, what happened? What happened to you?"

"What?" he dully asked.

"Did something happen?" She didn't even know what to ask beyond that.

"No," he replied. He looked back at the television. "You turned it off. Why'd you do that?"

"Erik," she said, helplessly. "Do you want to come outside for a walk? Maybe some sunshine would do you good. Huh?"

"Why'd you turn the game off?" he asked as though that were the only thing he could comprehend right now. "Alice, why'd you turn it off?"

Alice put a hand over her mouth as her heart sunk into her stomach. She needed help. Remaining at Erik's house, she called Corey. Thankfully, he was in the System, but he told her that he was supposed to leave that evening.

"This is an emergency," she said. "Please come."

Corey was there within thirty minutes. It didn't take him long to understand what she was talking about. "He's like a zombie," Corey muttered. Erik had turned his game back on again. He seemed oblivious to their presence in his apartment.

"Why would they do this?" Alice angrily asked. "What's the point? He might as well be dead. I don't understand."

"Maybe Erik was resisting being here. Or maybe he wasn't connecting well? That's possible, if he was put in here against his will."

Alice grimaced. "But did they really have to take it this far?"

"I don't know," said Corey. "But what do you want me to do? It's not like he's in the SCI building anymore. I've checked."

"I don't know." Alice paced.

"I could try Nadir," Corey began. "But I don't know how much he can do."

She thought about this. "Is there anyone else? I like Nadir, but I think he's given up on Erik. What if Nadir thinks the only alternative is to imprison him?"

"But…what is the alternative?" Corey softly asked. They were both staring at the back of Erik's head. "I mean, what can anyone do? Erik is messed up in this world. He's even more messed up in the real one. At least he doesn't want to hurt anyone here. At least he literally can't."

"You're really saying that this is fine with you?" Alice asked, furiously gesturing at Erik.

Corey glared. "None of this has been fine, Alice! I've said that from the beginning. SCI is not supposed to be a mental institution. This never should have happened. But I've left it alone because it's what you and Nadir and Gabby all wanted. And you kept saying-"

"Gabby!" Alice exclaimed with wide eyes. "You could see if Gabby can help!" Gabby was the only other person Alice knew of who had strong compassion toward Erik, who didn't want to see him dead. "Right?"

Corey was staring at her as though he didn't know what to do. He had never wanted this, and they kept drawing him back into it. Alice shook her head. "I don't have the answer, Corey," she murmured. "I was hoping Erik would be okay here, that everything would go back to normal. If Gabby can't help, maybe this is the final outcome. Maybe you're right. Maybe we can just try to make Erik comfortable here." Tears filled her eyes. "I don't have the answer. I'm sorry."

Corey's expression softened, and his shoulders slouched. He offered her a hug, and she gratefully took it. "I'll try to find Gabby," he promised.

* * *

It had not been a good week.

Patient A was dead.

Daniel had called her and announced, with irritation, "He's deceased. As soon as I tried to wake him up, he screamed and had a seizure. His heart stopped two minutes later. I told you this would happen."

"We'll just have to try again," Hope had replied. "Patient B should be here within a couple weeks."

Daniel had grumbled but remained committed to their goals.

Nick also wasn't behaving. They had tried a simple simulation outside of SCI, and his brain had barely connected to it. He had been very angry upon awakening. " _What the hell are you doing to me, you stupid bitch?!_ " He had cursed at Hope even as she tried calm him down.

Now Erik was struggling against his psychological bonds, and Daniel had to make drastic changes to the treatment plan. Erik was so drained of personality, so mentally suppressed, that he couldn't even work for Hope any longer. While it was impossible (and supposedly unethical) to keep a constant and literal eye on patients, SCI could monitor general movement patterns and activity. Erik was sitting in his apartment all day, not accomplishing anything except maybe watching television. Hope would eventually try to bring him back to a normal level of functioning, but it all wasn't looking very good.

Why didn't anyone understand how hard she was trying to help them, to make their lives better?

Hope was staring off into space, wishing she had a different life, when her phone rang. She looked to see who was calling and then cautiously answered. "Hello?"

"Hi. Hope? It's Gabby Giry."

"Hello, Gabby. How are you?"

"I'm well. I took some vacation time, and Meg and I went to New York together to see the ballet."

"That sounds lovely." Hope felt a twinge of jealousy toward the mother and daughter interaction. Why couldn't she have had a daughter? Girls were so gentle…

Gabby continued, "But I wanted to tell you that I'm interested in working for you again. Like you asked me to. Meg can stay with friends for a while . I think she's excited about it."

Hope paused. "Actually, Gabby, I'm afraid that position is closed right now."

" _What?"_ Gabby sounded upset. "But I was really looking forward to working with Erik again."

"I'm sorry. Maybe at another time. It's just too chaotic here. You understand."

"Yes. I do. Well, please let me know if you want me. I'd be happy to work for you."

"I will. You take care, dear. Goodbye."

"Bye, Hope."

Hope hung up. As much as she appreciated Gabby's expertise, she knew she had made the right decision. Nick was here. Other death row inmates were going to die as the experiments continued. And Erik still wasn't fully functional. Hope knew the picture wasn't pretty, and Gabby was far too clean for all this. She might get upset. Even worse, she might alert Nadir Khan as to what was occurring.

No, this would all have to stay quiet.

Daniel was gone for the day. Only a few staff were left, and most of them didn't speak English. Hope felt alone in the building. Knowing that Nick would only yell and curse at her, Hope stood and made her way into Erik's room. He lay in the reclined chair, motionless and grey and horrible looking. Like a corpse that had been rotting for weeks.

He was being good now, though. He had stopped struggling and trying to escape.

Hope weakly smiled and patted his frigid hand. "Now we're good," she murmured. "Once I figure you out, I'll figure Nick out, too. And then it will be like I have two sons. Two very good sons. Oh, I'm so tired. I need a win. I need hope. So please be good, Erik. Please be good."


	32. Chapter 32

**The next couple of chapters are going to be fairly focused on Christine. The story will take on a slightly more vignette-like quality, as it's the moments (as opposed to detailed events) that are important. Hope you all enjoy!**

 **Read and Review!**

Christine sat by herself in the back of a darkened room. Most of the other round tables were filled with friends and couples, murmuring and laughing and drinking together. There were also dozens of people standing in front near the stage.

A waiter stopped by. "Anything to drink?"

"Um. I'll have a Coke. With rum?" Her voice was nearly drowned out.

"ID?"

She handed him her driver's license. He looked between the card and her face a couple times then gave it back to her. "You're that girl," he stated.

Christine sighed. "Yeah. I'm that girl." Wasn't that an old sitcom?

"Drink is on the house. Have fun tonight." He left.

Christine kept her head down. It was one thing to be alone at a table. It was another thing to be the formerly kidnapped girl sitting alone at a table. If she wasn't careful, someone would invite her to their table out of pity. And the awkwardness would be endless.

A skinny man with a blonde goatee came up to the microphone on stage. "Ladies and gents, thank you for coming tonight. We've got a great show for you. _Four Angry Walruses_ is here, followed by _The Lightbulbs._ So sit back, have a drink – or three if you're not driving - and have a great time!"

Claps and cheers rang out into the room. The waiter brought Christine her drink. She took a sip. It was definitely heavier on the alcohol and lower on the sugariness, but that's how everyone else probably wanted it to be. Christine watched as Tom and the band members took the stage. The other guitarist was a guy with spiked blonde hair. The drummer was heavyset and bald. The other singer and keyboardist looked sort of like Tom, except shorter and more muscular. He said into the microphone, "Thanks everyone for coming out tonight to see us. Hope you enjoy the show!"

The band began to play. The people by the stage danced or jumped with their arms up in the air. Some of the other audience members left their tables to do the same. Honestly, Christine wasn't immediately the biggest fan of the music. It had a slight punk rock feel and was a little too loud and dissonant for her taste.

But – Christine was a fan of the energy in the room. Everyone seemed so excited and happy. The people there were obviously fans, and they were nodding their heads and singing along to songs that Christine didn't know. Tom was also pretty good on the guitar. His hands moved quickly, and he played with a smooth effortlessness that she'd only seen a couple of times in her life.

To Christine's surprise, the band also had a girl who sang with them three times. She had green eyes and bright, wild red hair flowing down her back. Several large tattoos covered her arms. Her voice was rougher and forceful.

They were of a different world. And Christine couldn't help but wonder why Tom had asked her to be a part of this. She'd never fit in. Maybe Tom did just want that song…

Their performance lasted for about an hour. Christine stood and clapped and cheered at the end. Some of the songs, especially the slower ones, had grown on her. There'd been a nostalgic song about losing innocence that she'd appreciated.

The next act was coming on stage, but Christine decided not to stay for that. For a second, she lingered uneasily, wondering if she should go home and text Tom later. He came up to her table before she could leave.

"Hey!" he said with a wave. "I thought I saw you out here. I'm so glad you came. What'd you think? Be brutally honest."

"It was good," she said with a genuine smile. "Lots of fun. I mean, I don't really listen to this genre. But you guys are good from what I know, I think."

He laughed. "All right. Great. That was honest enough. You want to come back with me and meet everyone?"

"Um. I don't know…"

"Just for a second. Everyone's nice. Except Charlotte, but ignore her."

"She's your singer?" Christine asked.

"Yeah. I mean, she's a great singer and a lot of fun. I love her. But she's not everyone's cup of tea."

"No. I just…you guys have a singer. And I'm sure she fits in with your style a lot better than I ever would."

"I told you," said Tom. "You wouldn't be part of the act, at least not until much later, if it worked. You'd have your own part."

"Right." She had forgotten that.

"So come meet everyone. Five minutes. Pretty please?"

"Okay." Christine followed him backstage. Some of the audience members were staring at her with curiosity. Their eyes widened, and they whispered to each other as they recognized her. Christine tried to keep her head down.

Over a dozen people were gathered in the back, chatting and carrying around instruments and equipment. The band members. Their closer friends and fans. Technical people. She watched them all with curiosity. Tom introduced her to Ike first.

"Hey," Ike said with a friendly smile. "What's up?"

"Not much," said Christine. "It's nice to meet you. I enjoyed your performance."

Ike looked amused, and it was probably because she was acting so formally. Christine inwardly cringed at herself. Still he said, "Likewise! Love your voice. Love _you._ "

"Thanks." She could feel the warm redness in her face. Tom didn't seem to notice.

The other two band members, Randy and Josh, weren't quite as forward. But they seemed nice enough. Randy offered her pizza and beer, which Christine politely declined. Josh, the keyboardist, only nodded and smiled slightly. He was a little more reserved.

And Charlotte…well, she glanced at Christine a couple of times, appearing annoyed. Tom finally introduced them. Christine said, "Nice to meet you."

Charlotte gave a curt, "You, too." Then she turned away to talk to someone else.

"Told you so," Tom mouthed.

They lingered a little while longer before Tom led her to a quieter corner. "So what do you think? It's a little crazy, huh? But it's fun, once you get used to it."

"I don't know," said Christine, glancing at her shoes. Her heart skipped a beat. These were the tennis shoes that she'd been wearing on that final day. She'd slipped them on that evening without thinking about it. But there they were.

"Are you okay?" asked Tom.

Christine quickly glanced back up. "I'm sorry. This is all overwhelming. I mean, it seems fun. And exciting. But I don't know if I fit in."

"You will fit in because you're artist. You're an amazing singer. But it's up to you," he said. "Picture your life if you do it. Picture your life if you don't. There's your answer."

She nodded and looked behind him at the crowd of people. Charlotte was showing someone her tattoos. Josh was playing with his guitar. Randy, Ike, and a group of people were laughing over drinks.

She didn't fit in, no. But what else did she have to do right now? She had her theater, but it felt so damned empty these days that she almost hated to be there. She had her quiet apartment. She had occasional calls from her aunt. She didn't have close friends. She _definitely_ wasn't ready to date.

How could she be worried about fitting in here, when she already didn't fit in anywhere?

"Maybe I'll give it a try," she murmured. "If you promise to leave the song alone."

"Cross my heart and hope to die. No one touches that song." Tom grinned. "This is fantastic." Before she could stop him, Tom turned and called out to the whole room, "Christine is coming with us!"

Some people cheered. Others looked confused or uninterested. Charlotte gave a subtle eye roll. Christine turned red again. Thankfully, everyone quickly went back to what they were doing.

"We're here for five more days, and then we're heading to Memphis," Tom said.

"I've never been there."

"You'll like it! It's warmer. You'll get a taste of the South."

"And I don't need to sign a contract or anything, right?"

"No. Not unless you ever want to make a record. Don't worry about that right now."

"Okay."

Tom's cell phone rang at that moment. He looked at the screen. His smile disappeared, and he shook his head. "Sorry. I have to take this. By the way, never get married." Christine looked at him quizzically, but Tom turned away. He answered and spoke to someone on the other end. "I cannot talk about this right now. It's not a good time." A pause. "I already told you. It was taken out of my account five weeks ago. Where the hell did it go if not to you? I swear, if you get that lawyer involved-"

This was uncomfortable. Tom obviously had an ex-wife, and they were not on good terms. Christine waved and quietly said, "I'm leaving."

"I'm sorry," Tom mouthed at her. "I'll call you later."

Christine quickly left the light and the sound. The dark and cold outside were almost calming. She pulled her coat tightly around her but held her head up so that the wind could brush against her cheeks. After a brief hesitation, she began to walk.

The theater wasn't too far away, and she took a short detour to pass by it. The building was mostly dark but still unlocked. She opened the front door. There were ladders, wooden beams, and yellow construction tape around the front area. She eventually looked toward the steps that led to the basement. They were covered with dust and fragments. She knew that it wasn't safe to go down them. But, for a crazy second, she wanted to see - to make sure he wasn't down there still waiting…

She placed her foot onto the first step and felt it wobble. She quickly drew back, not wanting to plunge to her death. She sharply inhaled.

And then she screamed, "Erik!" Her voice echoed. It'd been so long since she had heard his name out loud. The sound of it sent a tremor throughout her entire body. She squeezed her eyes closed and waited. Silence.

No one came.

 _What was she doing here? Was she insane?_

She quickly turned and ran out of the building.

She needed to get away from here.

* * *

For the last couple of days, Alice had regularly checked on Erik. She would come to his apartment before work and when going home in the evenings. He was always in the same spot – playing video games on the carpet with several snack foods cluttered around him. He barely looked at her or said anything. She had finally turned on some classical music, Beethoven's _Moonlight Sonata_ , to see if she could get a reaction. His head had tilted to the side, but that was it. When she touched his shoulder, he would twitch, and she was almost afraid to try any more physical contact. Even in his stupor, Erik seemed to be on edge.

Corey finally gave her a call and said he needed to talk to her. Alice suggested that they meet at Erik's apartment in the evening, and Corey reluctantly agreed.

The news wasn't good.

"Gabby called Hope," Corey said as they sat on Erik's sofa. Erik was sitting on the floor and playing games in front of them. "But now Hope doesn't want her to work with Erik. Gabby thinks something weird is going on, but she has no idea what. She doesn't know where Hope is."

Alice rubbed her hands over her face. "Okay. Does Gabby have any ideas about what to do next?"

"Not really. I mean, she's worried. But she also doesn't know if it's safe to mess with Hope. I think Gabby is a little scared of her." Corey paused. "She mentioned Nadir."

"Oh."

"I could give him a call and explain the situation," said Corey.

"Maybe," Alice murmured. "Give me a moment to think about it." She got up and went over to Erik. "Hey there," she said, kneeling to his level. "Would you like to go for a walk this evening?" She spoke slowly and enunciated. Erik didn't look at her. "Erik." She increased the volume of her voice. "A walk. Would _you_ like to go for a _walk_? Walk."

"Hm," Erik grunted.

Alice shook her head and sat on the floor. After a minute, Corey came over and sat beside them. As Erik played, they both helplessly watched, their heads bobbing up and down as their eyes followed the character's movements within the game. Alice started to feel queasy. This whole situation was so unhealthy. She debated turning off the game and throwing it out the door, but she didn't want Erik to melt down.

Then, out of the blue, Corey said in a very loud voice – _"Christine!"_

Alice stared at Corey as though he were insane. Then she looked at Erik.

Erik had dropped the controller. He was sitting there with wide eyes, his shoulders hunched, staring forward. His character in the game was killed by a monster that looked like a cross between a grizzly bear and a porcupine.

 _Silence._

Alice slowly reached out and poked him in the back. "Erik? Are you okay?"

His back muscle jerked. He blinked twice.

"Erik?" she asked again. She crawled closer to him. He hunched down even more, as though he were a turtle that wanted to crawl back into its shell. Alice slowly picked up the controller. She gently put it into his lap. "There you go." About ten seconds ticked by with no one moving. Finally, Erik picked up the controller. He stared at it for a few seconds. He went back to his game as though nothing had happened.

"That was mean," said Alice, glaring at Corey. "Of all the things you could have said."

"I wanted a reaction," Corey explained with a shrug. "Any reaction. To make sure that he wasn't fully automated. That seemed like the best way to get it."

Alice couldn't argue with that. But how could they use it? The hopelessness of the situation became more evident. She could talk about movie nights and volleyball and walks all she wanted, to try to bring Erik out of this stupor. But those activities were nothing but illusions. Even if they seemed healthier than sitting in this apartment all day, they were still meaningless.

But the topics that might work, his former life…music…Christine, were all dark and painful. And reminding Erik might make him crazy, especially as he was forced to reconcile both realities. She remembered the last time he'd gotten his memories back in this world. It had been terrifying.

Erik didn't do well in reality. He wasn't doing well here. He was trapped.

"Maybe Nadir will have some idea about what to do," Corey murmured.

Alice doubted that he would. Still, she said, "Fine."

* * *

This would be like a long vacation – not a relocation.

Christine kept her apartment and possessions. She checked her bank account to make sure taking a month off work wouldn't destroy her finances. The theater management couldn't give her paid leave, but they were nice about holding her job for her. In fact, they seemed to want her to go "have some damned fun."

She packed a heavy suitcase with a lot of clothes and toiletries. She made sure she had some reading materials and videos to watch on her laptop. Once she found out they'd be riding together in a very large van, Christine had some concerns.

Tom quickly reassured her, "You'll have fun with us. A lot of time, we'll stop to sleep, and you'll have plenty of space. You can tell us to shut up if we're too loud. Charlotte does all the time."

Over the several days, she went back and forth between fear and excitement over the whole adventure. Christine almost backed out a couple of times, having no idea as to what she was getting into. But, after what she had been through, this couldn't be that crazy, right? She'd seen some documentaries about bands and knew there could be drugs and alcohol. But no bombs – so that was a major positive, right?

Sometimes Christine wished that she could quit thinking altogether. She wished her mind was just a giant blank space where she could start over.

In the end, she chose to go with them.

They picked her up from her apartment on a late fall afternoon. The sky was cloudy, and a couple of cold sprinkles hit her hands and face as she climbed into the vehicle. The van was warm and smelled a little like cigarettes and fast food. The odor was bearable, though. As they merged onto the highway, Christine sat near the front with her purse at her feet, watching the fields and forests pass. The leather seat was comfy, and she drifted off to sleep a couple of times, despite the laughter in the back. There were a lot of inside jokes that she still didn't get. Still, these people kind of reminded her of her father's musical friends.

"Who ate all the ketchup?" asked Randy from the back.

"Ask Tom."

"Tom! Did you use all the ketchup?"

"Like two weeks ago, dude. When we were grilling hotdogs. I said that."

"It wasn't on the store list."

"So put it there, and we'll grab some at the next stop. Jesus."

"But what am I supposed to eat _right now_?"

Amused, Christine smiled to herself. She was about to drift off to sleep again when Tom suddenly slid into the seat beside her. Startled, she raised her head.

"How are you doing?" he asked.

"I'm good. Just listening to all your conversations back there." She shifted. "Sorry I don't say much. It takes me a while to warm up to new people."

"No worries. You can be as quiet and mysterious as you want."

She snorted and, after an awkward pause, tried to make a little conversation. "So what's your favorite city that you've been to?"

"Oh, I don't know." Tom leaned back. "I really liked New Orleans. It's kind of spooky and old. The cemeteries have tombs that are above the ground. There are swamps nearby with gators."

"I've never been. It sounds cool."

"Well, maybe we'll go back there with you. What's your favorite city?"

She shrugged. "I haven't been to many. We didn't have a lot of money. But I liked New York City. It seems big and exciting."

"It's a crazy, fun place. I hear you about the money, though. I hitchhiked to several cities when I was broke." A pause. "But you probably don't want to do that."

"Yeah, getting into cars with strangers really isn't number one on my list of goals right now." She gave him half a smile. "Weird, right?"

Tom stared at her for a second and then laughed. "Oh, man. I like that you can do that."

"Do what?"

"Make dark jokes about…it."

"Thanks." She looked at her purse.

Tom scratched his neck and glanced out the window. "We'll stop for the night. It may not be the greatest motel. But no cockroaches or anything. At least not more than a couple."

"It'll be fine." Nothing could be much worse than how her mother used to live. And, when her father was out of work, she remembered staying at a couple of really bad motels. One had a mouse that she'd chased, hoping to befriend it, until father had yelled - _"Stop, Christine! You're going to pick up diseases doing that!"_

She suddenly remembered how luxurious her life could have been right now, if she'd taken a different path. She could probably be living in a fancy New England apartment, watching the leaves turn beautiful colors on one of the nation's most prized campuses. And yet it hadn't been enough to go with Raoul. They'd been too different. And Raoul wouldn't stop looking at her as though she were broken, as though he pitied her.

"What are you thinking about?" asked Tom. "You have this strange look on your face."

"Um. I was actually thinking about my ex-boyfriend." For some reason, she felt like being honest. Maybe it was because she never had anyone to talk to.

"Oh, yeah. Weren't you dating someone famous?"

"The Governor's son."

"Right. I saw a video of him once. He looked like a model for Ralph Lauren." Christine giggled. "Missing him?" Tom asked with a teasing tone.

"No. I mean, sometimes because he was so good to me. But it wouldn't have worked. It already wasn't working. We both would have been unhappy."

"That's the way it goes sometimes," he replied, staring forward.

"So were you, um, married?" she asked. "No worries if it's none of my business. I heard that call. And then that comment you made about never getting married. So I was wondering."

His shoulders immediately drooped. Still, Tom looked at her and answered, "Yeah, it was a while ago. Too young and dumb to know better."

"I'm sorry." She wondered why he was still dealing with it unless – "Did you have kids?"

"One. A son."

"How old is he?"

"Ten now, I think."

"I see." She could tell he really didn't want to talk about it. A minute of silence passed between them. "You know, I need to practice," she said, trying to improve the mood. "Before I go on stage, I need to know what the accompaniment is going to sound like."

"Definitely," he replied, perking up. "We will practice as many times as you want. All night long. But first - I want Taco Bell." To her surprise, Tom quickly stood and called behind him, "Hey, who else wants Taco Bell?"

There were some boos and calls of agreement, followed by Charlotte – "That sounds gross."

Tom looked at Christine. "It's all up to you now. Where are we eating, Christine?"

"Taco Bell it is," she said, not really caring either way. Tom cheered.

There was a simplicity to this sort of life. A detachment from the rest of the world.

She still wasn't sure if she liked it or not. She wasn't sure if she wanted this.

But, for now, it was the best she could do.

* * *

Corey never had to contact Nadir because Gabby did it first. Gabby reported back to Corey. Corey came back to Alice. It was a long and frustrating game of telephone.

"Nadir wasn't happy about this," Corey stated, gesturing in Erik's direction. They were both back at Erik's apartment. Nothing had changed. "But he asked what other outcome we wanted to obtain."

"What other outcome?" Alice asked, unable to hide her frustration. She stood. "We want Erik to not be a pale shell of a human being, a vegetable. We want Erik to not act like he has a lobotomy. I mean, at this point, I hope he literally wasn't given one!"

"But…" Corey struggled for a moment to explain himself. "Nadir doesn't know where Hope is right now. He thinks she could be dangerous. But she's also Erik's only path into SCI. So do we expect Nadir to force Hope to fix Erik, assuming he even can be fixed? That's unlikely to happen. At best, Nadir could get Hope into trouble with the law for unethical activities. But…then Erik would be permanently out of SCI."

Alice sat back down as this information sunk in. "So, best case scenario, Nadir frees Erik from SCI altogether."

"Yes," said Corey. "And I don't think Nadir would just let Erik waltz back into normal society."

"Prison," muttered Alice.

"Yeah. So Nadir is asking us to consider whether this situation is worse than…"

"Than prison?" finished Alice. She shook her head. "No, I don't think it is." The mental image of the real Erik in prison was chilling.

"I don't know. I don't think I'd want to live like this." Corey glanced at Erik. "Anyway, Nadir said that we could keep him updated. But he doesn't know what to do either."

"Then I guess we're stuck," she said, inhaling, trying to find some strength. "Maybe Erik will improve. We could at least wait and see." Alice looked at Corey. "That's not wrong, is it? If the other option is prison. Or death? It's not unethical to let him stay like this, right?"

"No," Corey reassured her. "It's not unethical." They both stared at Erik. It was also most hypnotizing to watch him play his game, his head twitching every so often. "What do we do in the meantime?"

"Nothing," said Alice, feeling a hollowness in her chest. "We do nothing. There is nothing. Except to be here for him. Try to reach him sometimes. Maybe, somewhere in there, he can hear us. Maybe he remembers something."

"I guess you're right. I guess that's all we can do."

"Thanks for being here," she said as the defeat settled in. The upbeat beeps and chimes in the video game seemed to mock her.

"Anytime."

* * *

It had been a while since Christine had been around so many people for such a long amount of time. Even if the motel had only two stars and was $40 dollars a night, she was grateful to have her own room and some privacy. Tom had paid for it, despite her protests. He said that his band was doing okay, at least making a livable income. Still, she was careful not to put herself in a position where she felt like she owed Tom anything.

It was almost eleven by the time she'd settled into her room. Christine turned off the tattered covered lamp at the side of the bed. She climbed into the covers and sheets. She stared up at the ceiling. There was a stain in the corner, visible with the light that leaked in from the outside. She could faintly hear voices.

 _What would you think of all this, Erik?_

He'd probably be glad that she wasn't with Raoul. Thrilled that she was still singing. Annoyed by Tom's presence, even though there was nothing between them.

Then again, in that last letter, which she always kept with her, Erik had only said that he'd wanted her to be happy.

Was she happy?

No, not yet. Not really. She was just living one day at a time.

Christine lay there staring up at the ceiling. She started to drift off to sleep.

Then she heard voices on the other side of the wall, in the room next to hers, where some of the band members were staying. Christine was going to ignore them until she heard her name. She sat up and threw off the thin bedspread. She walked against the cold, grainy carpet to the wall and put her ear against it. Tom and another guy were talking. Maybe Josh? Their voices were still muffled.

"…thought it was weird. Random. You're so damned random." That was definitely Josh.

Tom replied, "If it works out, it works out. If it doesn't, what's the harm? She's cool."

"She's fine. But what's the point? She's not going to draw that many people." A pause. "Unless you're into her? Are you? Is that what this is about?"

"No!" snapped Tom. "I think she's got talent. Her with that song – that's some amazing stuff. I want to give her a chance. She was hiding away back there. It was depressing."

"Well, she's probably pretty messed up. Don't mess her up more."

"She's not messed up. You're more screwed up than she is."

"C'mon, Tom. Anyone who was locked in an underground cage and…you know, assaulted for months is going to have issues. Don't be stupid about it."

Christine flinched and felt her body go partially numb.

"Shut up! She might hear you. And I never heard those details." Tom sounded disturbed.

"That's cause you don't read the news. What the hell do you think happened to her? It was some real _Silence of the Lambs_ shit." An aggravated grunt followed. "Look. Whatever, man. It's your new weird thing. Just don't be stupid about it."

"Whatever."

"Maybe you should try Adderall again."

"Fuck you."

There were loud, angry footsteps, and the conversation ended.

With her arms folded against her chest, Christine walked back to bed. She climbed inside the covers again. Her hands were shaking. Her heart was pounding in her ears. She slowly exhaled.

 _I don't even know anymore. I want to defend you. I want to defend myself. I don't even know where to begin. I don't know if they'd even believe me._

 _Have you forgotten everything by now, Erik? Have you forgotten me? You got to forget, and I got to deal with the aftermath. I know you didn't mean it that way, but that's what happened. It doesn't seem fair. But I'm not angry with you. I-_

 _I-_

 _I miss you. No matter how hard I try not to, I miss you. Even if I shouldn't. Even if everyone else would call me crazy if they knew. I still miss you. And I'll never get to tell you that. It's like you're dead. So…_

 _Goodnight, Erik. Wherever you are, goodnight._


	33. Chapter 33

All right. Back to SCI. If you're wondering about a turning point, I'd say we should be there by the end of Chapter 35, so not too much longer to go. I'm so happy everyone enjoyed "Friends," though. In case anyone missed it, I wrote a short story for the holidays. It's completed and will hopefully leave you feeling happy.

 **Read and Review!**

Christine felt awkward seeing Tom the next day, after overhearing his conversation with Josh. She was afraid that he'd look at her as though he felt sorry for her, like everyone else did.

He smiled when she came out of her room and down to the parking lot, dressed in jeans and a sweatshirt. Without really thinking about it, she had tried to make herself more inconspicuous. "Good morning!" he greeted. "Ready for a hearty McDonald's breakfast?"

She laughed. "I guess so." Actually, she wasn't sure how much more fast food she could take. She saw Josh climbing in the van. He noticed her staring at him and nodded. She looked away.

It was all very confusing and frustrating. People had good intentions that ended up hurting her. It went like – _Everyone feels sorry for me because of what happened. They think I'm sad because I was kidnapped. If I admitted the truth, they'd feel even sorrier for the completely messed up girl. So I can't tell them the truth. And they'll keep on feeling sorry for me. And there's no escape from this whole thing._

Charlotte walked by, rubbing her eyes. She had still managed to curl her red hair and put on lipstick and mascara.

"Good morning, Sunshine," said Tom.

She responded with a finger.

Tom laughed. "Not my fault you stayed up with Ike all night." Tom looked around. "Where the hell is he anyway?"

"Asleep in the van," Charlotte replied. "Where I'm going to be. So everyone stay out of the back." She pushed past Christine and climbed inside.

"Wow," Christine murmured.

"You'll get used to her," said Tom. "She's funny. I like teasing the hell out of her."

"She's funny all right," Christine replied, still out of place – yet with no other place to be.

She survived the rest of the drive, mainly keeping to herself unless Tom came over to chat. She liked listening to them talk and laugh, though. They were interesting people. Along with wanting to have her voice heard, maybe that was the other reason she had chosen to go on this strange journey.

She couldn't go back to ordinary. Ordinary felt weird. _Four Angry Walruses_ was at least a step away from that. Even if they weren't exactly what she was seeking.

Christine was somewhat surprised when they pulled up to a school. It was Saturday. But still – "They're really letting us use their gym to rehearse?" she asked after Tom explained, blinking up at a one-story brick building that had probably been built in the 1960's.

"Randy had a connection. So we're all set."

"Oh." A pause. "Is this legal?" she asked as everyone began to climb out of the van.

Tom looked amused. "There isn't a law that says a band can't use a gym."

Christine shook her head. _After everything that's happened, I'm worried about trespassing into a gym. Are you laughing at me, too, Erik? Except – when you snuck into places, I knew no one would ever catch you._

She followed them into the building. With the bleachers and basketball court, the gym immediately reminded her of high school. It smelled like high school, too. She stepped back as they began to set up all their equipment, plugging in speakers, guitars, microphones, and some electronics devices that she didn't recognize. Tom changed the strings on his guitar. They messed with the volumes and sounds. Charlotte sat to the side in a plastic chair and filed her nails, yawning occasionally.

"Do you want to go first?" asked Tom, once they were finished. "This was mainly for you."

"Um." Christine stepped backwards. "Why don't you guys do some of your songs first?" She felt vulnerable, her heart hammering.

"All right," said Tom. "We'll do a couple."

Relieved, she sat on the cold floor and listened to them, their voices and instruments echoing off the high ceilings. It was almost too loud. Charlotte didn't even look up. She just kept filing. Christine finally stood and tried to do a few voice warmups but could barely hear herself.

After two songs, Tom turned toward her. "Your turn, Ms. Daae! Get up here."

"I…"

"Come on!" said Ike. "You're awesome. Get up here!"

Even Josh said, "Come on. You can do it."

Christine tucked her hair behind her ear and slowly approached. She was shaking as she reached the microphone. "All right," she said. "Oh, but how are you guys going to know how to accompany me?"

"Got it right here," Tom replied, holding up some music sheets.

Her mouth fell open. "How'd you get that?"

"Online. And then I made some adjustments."

She frowned. Erik's music was already on the Internet. Everyone would print it and play it, never understanding what was behind it, who was behind it. Without an expensive team of lawyers, what could she even do about it? Christine tried to focus on her voice. "Go," she said.

She closed her eyes and listened for a moment. It was the first time she had ever heard Erik's song accompanied with guitars. They played it at a slightly faster tempo, but they were respectful to the source material. The notes were correct. There were no major variations or embellishments. Tom had done a nice job.

She began the song, and her voice was hoarse and shaky. Christine swore that she heard Charlotte snort in amusement.

"You've got to loosen up!" called Tom. "You're great. You can do this. Here. Let's start from the beginning."

She began again and felt hot and dizzy, even though the gym was cool. She suddenly pictured _him_ in her mind, the good and the bad. She saw that little house, both her prison and her home. She saw the dusty building where she had prevented the disaster, where she'd embraced him and promised to marry him. The news had recently reported that the police had found some of Erik's deactivated explosive devices near the government building – much to Christine's dismay.

She saw the room below the theater, where she had held him that last night.

 _"But why won't you - what do I have to do? What? What do I have to give you to make you want me?"_

She remembered the last words he had said to her -

" _You are extraordinarily wonderful. I hope you know that. I love you."_

A tear dripped down her cheek. A lump formed in her throat. She looked around the dusty gymnasium. The music continued, but she stopped singing.

"Christine?" asked Tom.

She looked at him. Then she turned and ran toward the nearest exit.

"That was fun," Charlotte muttered behind her. "Thanks for this, Tom."

She didn't know where she was going. Bursting through a set of double doors, she was suddenly in a hallway with light blue lockers. She leaned against locker number eighty-two, feeling the coldness of the metal beneath her clothing.

Tom was out there within a minute. "What's wrong?" he asked.

"I don't know if I can do this," she said.

"Why?"

"It's painful," she murmured.

Tom came closer. "Painful? Why?" She didn't answer. "You can use your emotions to make the song more powerful, right? I've heard you do this before. I know you can do it. You own that song."

She felt anger rise up in her chest. He knew nothing about that song.

"Everyone should hear it," he continued.

Enough was enough. "You want the song, Tom?" she asked, wiping her eyes. "You love it that much?"

"I do," he replied. "It's not close to my normal style, but I do love it."

She pursed her lips. "Do you want to know who wrote the song?"

"I'd love to." Tom almost looked mesmerized.

"Why do you want to know?"

He blinked. "Maybe to eventually reach out to the individual, express my appreciation. Look into collaboration."

Christine gave a short laugh that sounded strange coming from her mouth. It didn't sound like her. "You can't reach out to him. He's practically dead." She choked up. "And, even he weren't, I _really_ wouldn't recommend contacting him."

"I don't understand."

" _He_ wrote it."

"Who?"

" _He_ did." She wasn't giving him any more than that.

"He? Who? I don't under-" Tom stared at her face. His expression changed from curiosity to shock. His eyes widened. He stepped back. "Holy…Oh my God. Christine. I am so sorry. I will never ask you to sing it again."

She shook her head. Is that what she had wanted? Pity? Horror? _No!_ She had wanted to finally scare him away from that song. Because that was her song. And, whether she sang it or not, no one else was touching it. "I can sing it. I will sing it."

"No. Really." Tom put up both hands. "You don't have to. I mean, that would be messed up."

"Why?" she asked. "Because I went through some real _Silence of the Lambs_ crap?"

"You heard that? I'm sorry. Josh can be an ass, and I-"

"Well, I didn't! Everybody thinks they know what happened to me, but they don't. And I _will_ sing that song. Because I want to sing it. Not because you want me to."

Tom stood there with his mouth hanging open. Maybe she was being too hard on him. How could he really understand? "I thought you were okay singing it," he said, scratching the back of his head. "Because you sang it back in your city."

"It's all kind of complicated," she murmured, glancing at her shoes. She looked back up. "But now you know. Do you still want that song, Tom?" She looked him in the eye. "He wrote it just for me."

"No," Tom nearly whispered. "I don't. I'm sorry."

"Thank you." She nodded her head toward doors that led to the gymnasium. "Let's go. I'm ready to sing now."

"Let's go…" he said, staring at her as though she were from another planet.

Maybe she was.

* * *

Patient B was dead.

Another failure. Another waste of time.

Then Daniel delivered more bad news. "I tried to increase Erik's mental capabilities again. It didn't work."

Hope stared up at him, rubbing her temples. "What do you mean it didn't work? He resisted?"

"The opposite actually. I let up on the hormones. I gave him more free will, so to speak. But there were very few changes in his functioning. Per all our readings, he's still sluggish, not moving much or interacting."

"Well, what the hell does that mean, Daniel?" She spread out her hands.

"I don't know! That his lackluster state may be happening because of something else, something we're not focusing on or controlling. But we'll give it a couple of days. Maybe his brain needs time to readjust."

She shook her head. "And Nicholas?"

"Well. Some better news there. We got his character created."

That was the best news she'd heard in a while. "You did? Can I see it?"

"Sure." She followed Daniel down the hallway and to a room where their programmers worked in coordination with SCI headquarters. Everyone else had gone home for the day. Daniel typed into one of the computers. Then he made a phone call. "Hey. Can you send me the prototype for Patient N? Thanks." Daniel typed again and then clicked on a file. "And there we go." He scooted the chair back so that Hope could get a closer look at the picture.

"Oh," Hope whispered, placing a hand against her rapidly beating heart. There he was. Her son's second chance. He was blond, but enough of his face was changed so that no one would ever know they were the same person. His features were softened, the hard effects of prison and the atrocity gone from his eyes. The sneer was gone from his lips. It was beautiful. He was beautiful.

"What should his name be?" Daniel asked. "I know we kept Erik's name, but Nicholas is a little too notorious for that."

"I'll think about it," she murmured, touching the screen with her finger. She was so desperate for a victory, for progress. The last months felt like a slog through devastating pointlessness. "We can put him in soon?"

"Woah. No," said Daniel, standing. "We have a lot of work to do. There's still way too much wrong."

"Not permanently - yet," Hope explained. "Just for a little while. A day, maybe. I want to see how he does."

"No!" Daniel exclaimed. "There's way too much to configure. He needs a job and an apartment. He needs more work on his brain so that he accepts the System. And I still need to put an end to that sadistic streak."

Hope faced Daniel, jaw clenched. She reached out and placed a hand on his shoulder. She gripped it a little too tightly. "As soon as it's possible, I want him in there. A test drive."

"We don't do test drives! We wait until everything is as close to perfect as possible. I mean, I'm not even comfortable with Erik in there right now."

"Daniel, you're way too much of a perfectionist, and it's slowing us down. You will do this, or I will find someone else to do it for me. And you can find a new job. Do you understand me? I want to see my son in there." Her voice shook. "I have worked for this for years now. And I want to see some goddamned results!"

Daniel's shoulders slouched. Her grip loosened. "What if he scares someone?"

"We'll erase all memory of him. That's easy for SCI, isn't it? And he literally can't hurt anyone, right? He'll only be in there for a day or two. Nothing will happen. I expect to hear from you within the month, telling me you're going to do this. Do you understand?"

Daniel looked down and nodded. "Yes, Hope. I understand." He shrugged. "Maybe it'll be fun, seeing how he reacts. Give me a couple weeks."

"Thank you." She heard him muttering behind her as she walked away. She didn't care. Daniel did get too hung up on details. He would have to learn to move a little faster.

Steeling herself, Hope also stopped by her son's room. It'd been several days since she had spoken to him. Nicholas was awake, watching television. It sounded like the news.

"…investigators believe that all the devices have been deactivated and were no danger to government officials or the public. Still, they're trying to get them all removed before…"

Nicholas was staring at the screen intently.

"Hello," she said. He didn't even glance at her. "How are you?"

"Sh. I'm watching this."

Hope inwardly winced. "Fine. I'll visit you later." She turned to leave.

The news reporter continued. "…questioning whether this was tied to the incident involving Governor Chagny's son and Christine…"

"Wait," said Nick.

Hope turned.

"All this." He nodded toward the screen. "Did Erik do all this? I heard about some of it in prison. But not all of it."

Hope glanced at the television. "Possibly. I don't know everything, and it doesn't really matter now." She smiled. "But now Erik is doing so well," she lied. "He's a delightful young man with a bright new life in front of him. That is what SCI can do for you both. The future is what matters. The past can be erased."

Nick stared at her and then slowly smiled back. "I'm sure he's very good, Mother. I hope you can make me good, too."

"Oh, Nicholas." Hope clasped her hands together. "I will make your life so much better, if you'll let me."

"Thank you, Mother." He turned back to the screen.

She quietly left.

 _Ben._

 _If I'd had a second son, I'd have named him Ben._

* * *

True to her word, Christine sang that song. She rehearsed it until she was completely satisfied, and then she sang her heart out. She could feel Tom staring at her, but she didn't care. Let him think she was weird. Everyone else already did.

The first time she sang in public again, at a smaller concert venue, she didn't feel like anyone really cared. This was not her audience. Still, she did her best, and no one looked too bored. They stared at her with curiosity, occasionally whispering to each other with confused expressions. Afterwards, Tom said, "You did great. Don't worry. The next crowd will be a little friendlier."

"Thanks," she replied. They hadn't talked too often since her revelation.

He added, "At first I was a little disturbed. But if this is your way of dealing and healing, then, you know, go for it."

"Thank you," she said again.

Some of the venues were friendlier, featuring pop bands that played before the _Walruses,_ thereby drawing a less edgy crowd. Christine started singing only at those, probably pleasing everyone, punk-loving audiences included. To her surprise, Tom went to the trouble to find Christine her very own venues, places where she sang with only Josh accompanying her on the keyboard. They weren't major concerts – more like a local shopping mall music event and a winter carnival. Still, she felt more comfortable at them. Younger girls seemed to like her, as did some of the older men and women. At the carnival, there were a couple of girls that couldn't have been more than fifteen. They shouted, "We love you, Christine!" She waved to them, surprised and delighted.

"See," said Tom when she stepped off the stage. "You're getting out there a little more each day. I'm proud of you."

"I'm sure they still only know me from…"

"So what?" Tom replied. "It makes you interesting."

"That's one way of putting it." _Thanks, Erik. For making me interesting._

Along with her singing progressing, she got a tour of the southern cities - Atlanta, Montgomery, Tallahassee. That was kind of fun even though the places where she slept were sometimes a little sketchy. She skipped showers more than she liked, and sleep was hard to come by. But at least she was travelling. _Erik and I were going to travel…_

She thought about him a lot these days. She had conversations with him in her head.

 _How'd I do, Erik? Yeah, I think I missed a note at the end, too._

 _I wish you were here to make fun of Charlotte with me. I hate that I find her intimidating. I bet you wouldn't think she was intimidating._

 _I wish we could talk for real. I wish we could lie in the dark together and talk. I think I'd say the right things. I hope I would._

She still didn't fit in with the band very well. She would join them for meals and quietly listen as they ate and discussed their music or reminisced about life on the road. Being a one-drink kind of person and a non-smoker, she usually left early to go to bed and have some time to herself, which consisted of watching old family-friendly sitcoms or daydreaming.

Sometimes she could add to their conversations, like when they were talking about their worst hotel experiences. She had her own story and spoke up. "When I was six, my dad was out of work for a while. So we had to stay in a motel for about a month. One time, this couple in the other room started, uh…" _Okay, now it was awkward._

"Doing it?" asked Ike with an amused grin.

"Uh. Yeah. Loudly." Everyone chuckled, so Christine was encouraged to continue. "Anyway, I asked my dad what they were doing, and he said they were singing and playing drums. Then my dad got out his guitar and started playing it really loudly to block out their noise. A few minutes later, someone knocks on our door, the same people. The guy said, 'Excuse me. You're playing that guitar really loud. Could you keep it down?' Before my dad could say anything, I shouted, 'We could hear you playing your music, too! It was terrible.'"

Everyone except Charlotte laughed.

Sometimes Christine felt okay and thought she might like to continue on this path for a little while, see if she could get anywhere with her singing. Other times, she just wanted to go back home, no matter how lonely it seemed or how many memories would torment her. If she kept singing, she still wanted to figure out how to make people focus on the music and not on her kidnapping. _I wish you were here to write me more songs. Maybe that would do the trick._

She was sitting in the van pondering this one evening, waiting for everyone else to get ready. Tom had given her the key and said they'd be out there in five minutes, but ten minutes had gone by. Christine was hungry, and they liked to eat a lot later than she did. At least it wouldn't be fast food. Ike had discovered a local steak place that had great reviews. "A must-eat!" he'd exclaimed.

Charlotte was the first one who came out. Without a word, she climbed into the van and sat in the seat behind Christine. Christine started to ignore her.

"Hey," said Charlotte.

Christine blinked in surprise and glanced behind her. "Hi."

"Having fun?" Christine started to respond, but Charlotte added, "With the whole band thing. Not sitting here in the smelly van."

"Yeah," she said. "It's a lot of fun. It's different."

Charlotte smiled. "Yeah, Tom knows how to have a great time. He's always bringing in someone new, making things more exciting."

"Oh."

"Until he gets bored," Charlotte stated with a clear edge.

"I…" Christine didn't have a response. Her stomach turned.

"Look." Charlotte leaned forward, near Christine's ear. "I'm telling you this because I feel kind of bad for you. I don't think you're like all the other poor desperate girls who Tom picks up for a couple months. You had crazy shit happen to you, so you're probably a little messed up right now. I wanted to warn you not to get attached to him."

Christine leaned away and glared. "I'm not _attached_ to Tom!"

"Good," said Charlotte, nodding her head. "I love the guy. But he does this at least once a year. A new girl. Sometimes because he thinks she's hot. Sometimes because he thinks she's talented. And then he gets bored, and they fight because he doesn't pay attention to her, and it ends. I mean, the guy can't even keep track of his son's birthday. Got it?"

"Whatever. Got it," Christine muttered.

"I mean, go ahead and sleep with him," Charlotte added. "You won't regret it, if you get what I mean. But don't expect anything more."

"I have no interest in sleeping with him!" Christine snapped, turning red. She had never wanted to slap someone so much. "Oh my God! Where would you even get that? I wanted a chance to sing! That was it! I wanted to sing again."

Charlotte smirked. "Could have fooled me." Before Christine could give a nasty reply, Charlotte said, "I'm kidding. Relax, honey. You need to relax. You look chronically unhappy."

Christine crossed her arms and leaned back, looking away, done with this stupid conversation.

Charlotte yawned. "Long day, huh? But you got love it, this life."

Christine didn't respond. _Where the heck was everyone else_? She was going to go back to her room and eat _M &Ms_ for dinner if they didn't get here soon.

"Don't be mad," said Charlotte in a sweet voice. "I said I was kidding."

"I'm not mad," replied Christine with a clenched jaw. "I'm hungry."

Charlotte laughed. "I get cranky when I'm hungry, too. They are so slow, aren't they? And here men complain that women are the ones who take forever to get ready." Christine heard Charlotte unzip her purse and pull something out. Plastic crinkled. "Go ahead and have one," said Charlotte. Christine glanced behind her. Charlotte was holding out a bag of chocolate chip cookies. "They're yummy." Charlotte pulled one out and took a bite.

At first, Christine was going to ignore her. Starving and frustrated, she finally reached out and took a cookie. "Thanks."

Christine turned around and started to put it in her mouth. Tom suddenly appeared. "Hey, ladies! Sorry for the wait. We're almost - " He paused and stared down at them. His smile faded, and he tilted his head. He looked at Charlotte. "Hey, Char. Did you tell her what those were?"

"She knew," said Charlotte. "She needs to relax."

"Christine." Tom leaned toward her. He put a hand on her shoulder. "Do you know what kind of cookie that is?"

"Chocolate chip?" Christine softly asked.

Tom stood up straight. "Dammit, Charlotte!"

"Chill," said Charlotte. "It's not like I tried to poison her."

"What's going on?" Christine asked, her heart giving a little jump.

"Uh. In this state, that's not a legal cookie. " Tom slowly held out his hand. "I mean, you can eat it if you want. But, if you don't have experience with it, the first time can be a little weird. It's up to you." He was speaking as though he were trying not to offend her, to treat her like a child.

Embarrassed about everything and everyone, she handed him the stupid cookie. Christine crossed her arms again, turned away, and looked out the window. She kind of wanted to disappear. She practically ignored Tom when he tried to make conversation.

Even after everything she had been through, she still managed to feel like a naïve idiot.

* * *

Everything stayed the same for several weeks, and Alice was hopelessly certain that Erik would be stuck like that forever, a video game playing vegetable. She checked on him regularly but could never get him to move or say anything.

Then there was the subtlest change in Erik. He seemed to have woken up slightly. Very, very slightly.

Alice found him scribbling in a notebook one evening, as opposed to mindlessly playing the video game. She carefully approached, crouched down beside him, and said, "Hey there. What are you doing?"

At first, she didn't think she was going to get a response. Erik blinked. "Game strategy," he finally muttered.

"Oh." She glanced at the notebook. The writing mostly looked like scribbles, but maybe it made sense to him. "You feeling okay?"

"Yes."

She was not going to waste this opportunity. "How about if we go for a walk? A nice walk. Does that sound good?"

He didn't respond this time, only kept writing.

Alice reached out and tugged on his shoulder. He finally looked at her. "A walk?" she asked. "Please?"

"A walk," Erik softly repeated as though he wasn't familiar with the word.

"Yes! Exactly! Please?"

He didn't say anything. Alice gently pulled on his arm until she got him to a standing position. Erik swayed, and Alice put both hands on his shoulders to steady him. She wrapped a hand around his wrist and led him forward. He only had socks on his feet, but Alice didn't want to go through the struggle of making him put on shoes. She pulled him outside. It was early evening, but Erik still squinted.

"Okay. Here we go," said Alice. "We are walking. It's very exciting." She led him along, and Erik thankfully stayed beside her, never resisting. He stared forward, blinking every so often. "Isn't this nice?" Alice asked. Erik didn't say anything.

Alice wished she could say something meaningful but didn't know where to begin. Or if he would even understand her. She took Erik around the park where they had played volleyball long ago, through neighborhoods. She pointed out a new petting zoo. Erik grunted at that. "I'm sorry you're not as excited about ponies and donkeys as I am," Alice gently teased. She was probably talking to herself.

Their last stretch was the area of town with restaurants. She took him past the pizza place and the Greek café. When they first walked by the guy, Alice barely noticed him. He was standing outside the burger restaurant, staring at the front window with his hands in the pockets of his black jacket, maybe waiting for someone. He was blond and younger, but that was all she could see in the dim lighting. He ignored Alice and Erik as they walked by.

Alice stopped outside of Kate's Burgers and spoke, "Hey, Erik. You want anything to eat? Are you hungry?"

"No," Erik murmured, his gaze on the sidewalk.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"Okay." Alice started to turn and then noticed that the blond guy was now facing them. He had blue eyes, and he was staring. Specifically, he was staring at Erik, almost sizing him up. It was kind of creepy.

"Let's go home, Erik," she said, rubbing away the goosebumps on her arms. "It's getting late."

"Home," Erik agreed.

Alice led him down the sidewalk. She glanced back once to make sure they weren't being followed but didn't see anyone. She noticed that Erik was looking backward, too. "Did you see him?" she asked.

Erik didn't reply.

Alice shrugged, figuring that she was being paranoid, and they continued walking home.


	34. Chapter 34

**We're still on track to have a major turn in the story next chapter, as I think should be obvious from this chapter. And then…hopefully you'll all like where we're going**

 **Thank you for all your support! Happy Holidays! Read and Review!**

Christine didn't say much at dinner that night. It was one of those times when she desperately wanted to go back home. What was she doing with these people? Was she a joke? Christine knew that Charlotte had desperately wanted for her to unknowingly 'get high' and then make an idiot of herself.

She was grateful to get back to her motel room and away from Charlotte's smirking face. Christine grabbed the package of _M &Ms _off the dresser and plopped on the creaky bed. She turned on the television to an old family sitcom. The picture was grainy. There were some brownish stains on the comforter, and she didn't want to know where those had come from. But at least she wasn't around Charlotte.

Just as she'd begun to relax, there was a knock at her door. She got up and glanced through the peephole before warily opening it.

"Hey," said Tom with a wave.

"Hi." She didn't pretend to be in a good mood.

"Look," he began. "I'm sorry about Charlotte. You really have to ignore her. Once she sees that you don't give a damn, she'll lighten up." Tom leaned in. "She's got some issues, doesn't have a great relationship with her family."

"It's fine," said Christine. "It doesn't matter."

"Is something else wrong?"

"It doesn't matter," she repeated. "I'm fine."

"You don't sound fine. What'd she say to you?"

Christine sighed. "She said that you like to find a new girl every year to take on the road. That's all." Christine shrugged. "But you know what? I don't care. I didn't plan for this to be a long term deal. I wanted to sing again, but I could easily go home and be fine."

Tom hesitated. "Well, she's not giving you an accurate picture. I've had girlfriends. Some relationships last longer than others. I'm not perfect, but, you know, take everything she says with a grain of salt."

Christine didn't know whether to believe him. The truth probably lay in between what Tom and Charlotte had said. But, once again, it didn't matter. This whole arrangement would eventually come to an end. "Like I said, it's fine. I'm not mad. It was just uncomfortable."

"All right. Well, I'll let you get back to what you were watching. It sounds like _Full House._ Awesome." He was playfully teasing her, though. Tom started to leave.

Then Christine thought of something. The cookie debacle had triggered some unpleasant memories. This was going to be uncomfortable but - "Wait."

Tom turned. "Yeah?" She lowered her voice to a whisper. Unable to hear her, he came closer. "Huh?"

"Have you used a lot of drugs?" she asked.

That probably wasn't a good way to start the conversation. Tom immediately stepped back and became defensive. "No! I mean, I've experimented a little bit, but I'm not an addict or anything. These days, it's mostly weed now and then."

"No, I'm not accusing you. I just…I was trying to find out about these pills online."

Tom hesitated and studied her, probably trying to figure out where this conversation was going. "Pills? There are a lot of pills out there."

"Yep," she agreed. "At first I was afraid that I wouldn't be able to narrow it down."

"OxyContin? Valium?"

"I don't think it's a prescription drug." She thought back. "Pills that make you paranoid and faster. And have no fear. I think I finally found them. They're red. Some people call them Rosy Hours. Or Rosy or just Red."

Tom's eyes widened slightly as though he weren't expecting her to name that one. "And you want to know about them?" She nodded. Tom glanced over his shoulder. "Okay. Can I come in? Sometimes the cops monitor motels like this, and I don't want them to get the wrong idea."

She let him in and closed the door behind them. She stayed standing with him, crossing her arms against her chest.

"All right," he began with a very matter-of-fact tone. "Rosy is an amphetamine. And you're right. It's not a pharmaceutical. It's stronger than those."

"And it's new?"

"Relatively, within the last couple of decades. The black market created it to be like the meth of the middle and upper classes, without some of the physical side effects and the stigma. But everyone eventually got their hands on it."

"Have you…?"

"Once." Tom grimaced. "It makes you feel kind of nuts, like super happy and excited. But you lose all sense of what you shouldn't do. People like to take them and commit crimes. Or, uh, have fun. Some people were arrested for running around naked, that kind of thing."

Christine blinked. _I'm glad you didn't do that, Erik. It would have been very awkward._ She inhaled and then asked, "Is it something that, even if someone were addicted, they could get off it?"

Tom shrugged. "Sure."

"Forever?"

"Sure. I don't think it's more addictive than the other stuff out there." He tilted his head. "Why?"

"No reason." She paused. "I mean, you tried it once, and you're not addicted."

"I've tried a lot of things that I didn't get addicted to. I didn't want to feel like that all the time. It's expensive, and you can do a couple years in prison for possession." She nodded. Tom studied her. "Seriously. Why are you asking? I'm all for a little experimentation, but Rosy Hours is not where I'd start. Eat a cookie first, okay?" He winked.

Her eyes widened. "God, no! I don't want to _experiment_ with anything. I heard about it on the news and was curious."

Tom raised an eyebrow. "I'm not sure I believe that."

She had never been much of a liar. Her shoulders drooped, and she said, "I had a, uh, friend who used it. I think he got off of it, and I wanted to make sure there was hope for him. That's all. I have no interest in trying it, Tom." _Not after what it did to him._

"Ah. Well," said Tom, his expression softening. "I have been there. I've had good friends in and out of rehab."

"Did they end up okay?"

"Some did. Some didn't."

"Why do you think that is?" she softly asked.

He shrugged. "It's a lot of things. Some of it's biology. I also think they have to want to change. They have to want to be better for themselves or their loved ones."

"Yeah," Christine murmured. "I guess so."

Beyond the violence, that had been the other thing that had disturbed her. At a logical level, she knew that anyone could be an alcoholic or an addict, from her teachers to the guy in the expensive suit on the subway. But, at an instinctive level, the word 'addict' brought to mind very troubling images. Addicts were scary people on street corners who were missing teeth and mumbling to themselves.

 _"And you're still on the drugs? Are you?"_

 _"The day you tried to kill me with the vase, I ceased taking them."_

 _"I stopped taking those damned pills because of you! To protect you!"_

She was staring at the dirty motel carpet, caught in another time and place. Tom reached out and gently squeezed her shoulder. "Hey," he said. "Whatever happens there, it's not something you can fix. They have to do it. K?"

"K," she murmured.

He stepped toward the door. "Well, I'll let you go if you're okay."

"I'm okay. Thanks, Tom. Have a goodnight."

After he was gone, she curled up on top of the bedspread. As the sitcom played, she spoke to him in her mind -

 _Erik, Erik. No one thought you could change on your own. So they forced you to change._

 _I hope you're happy. I hope everyone told me the truth. I hope you're not really dead or suffering._

 _I'm mad at myself for not making them show me proof. You could really be dead. I can't even think of that, Erik._

 _I want to find out. And yet I don't._

 _I hope your heart is still beating._

 _I'd give anything to feel it again, even if just for a moment, even if you don't know I'm there._

* * *

To Hope's relief, everything went well with Nicholas's first entry into the System. He had not fought or resisted. Daniel had said that he was still worried about Nicholas's mind fully accepting SCI. There were still behavioral flaws to be worked out, and Nicholas might remember the past.

Still, Hope was encouraged by how willing Nicholas suddenly seemed to be regarding entering the System. Nicholas had said, "I'm ready. Let's do it."

Once inside, he appeared to be behaving – interacting with people and exploring his surroundings, not causing any trouble. At least, there weren't any emergency calls from the residents.

Erik was still disappointing.

And Patient C was dead.

But at least Hope had…hope.

So when Daniel asked, "Should I leave him in there longer? Everything appears to be okay."

Hope immediately responded, "Yes!"

* * *

With Corey out of the System for a week, Alice was left to manage Erik on her own. She was hoping for a steady improvement in him but wound up disappointed. While Erik seemed less physically impaired, his mind was still practically gone. She could get him to walk and move, even run if she pulled him along, but he wasn't able to communicate with her.

Alice was growing exhausted and despairing. So she was grateful when Ken and Leigh suggested a night out at their favorite bar. Getting a little tipsy didn't sound too bad. Mainly, she wanted to talk to people who could talk back to her.

"Did you invite Erik?" Ken asked once they were all settled in. "I haven't seen much of him."

Alice hadn't told them anything. How would she even begin to explain? "Uh. No. He's been really busy with work."

"Well, he should come and relax," Ken replied. "Should I call him?"

"No!" Alice said with a bit too much force. "He's really tired."

Ken shrugged. "All right. So what have you two been up to?"

Thankfully, Leigh took over. She had recently left the System for a week to visit her family. "It was pretty awkward, as usual. I don't think they know what to say. I think they pretend I'm dead."

"I'm sure they don't pretend you're dead," said Alice. "But they don't know what we do here. They don't understand that it's like real life, not some video game."

"I wish it were like a video game," stated Ken. "I wouldn't mind shooting some zombies."

"Or mushrooms that make you grow big?" asked Leigh with a laugh. "That would be fun."

"It can be a little boring here sometimes," said Ken. "The administrators are so obsessed with making it like real life that they forget to make it interesting."

Alice supposed he was right. She hadn't been bored lately, but that was because she had been dealing with Erik.

Leigh suddenly changed the conversation - "Is that guy watching us?"

Alice looked up and started. It was the blond guy from that night with Erik. She hadn't seen him again since then. "I think he must be new," she said, less disturbed by him now that she was in a crowded bar with friends. "I've seen him once before."

"Well, that explains the confused look on his face," said Ken, unconcerned. "He's probably still figuring everything out."

"He's kind of cute," said Leigh. "And yet…"

"There's something a little weird about him?" Alice asked.

"Yeah."

"You guys are ridiculous," said Ken. "The poor guy probably needs some friends." Before they could say anything, Ken was suddenly waving to him. "Hey, Dude. Come over here! Yeah, you."

The guy slowly walked toward them, his toes almost dragging against the floor. His eyes seemed to stay on Alice. Alice uneasily looked away.

"What's your name?" asked Ken.

"Ben," he softly replied. His voice had a dull and toneless quality.

"Nice to meet you. I'm Ken. You new here?"

"You could say that," said Ben.

Alice forced her heebie-jeebies away and smiled. "Well, welcome. I'm Alice. And that's Leigh."

Ben focused on her again. "Alice. I think I saw you the other night. With someone else?"

Alice nodded. "Yeah. I was walking with my friend."

"Where is he?" asked Ben.

"Busy with work," she coolly replied.

"Oh. I hope I get to meet him." Again, Ben's voice was so colorless that it was difficult to read his emotions or intentions.

"Well. Let us know if you need anything," Alice said.

Ben suddenly studied Leigh a little more closely. "How are you tonight?"

Leigh smiled. "Fine. Relaxing after the workweek. Do you work in research?"

"I'm still looking for work," Ben replied.

Alice frowned. That was weird. Usually everyone had work when they arrived, even if it was only part-time while they adjusted.

"Maybe we could get coffee soon," said Ben to Leigh.

"Um. Yeah," said Leigh, squirming a little. "Why not?"

"How should I contact you?" Ben asked.

After a pause, Leigh gave him her number.

Ben nodded but didn't write it down. "You all have a nice night." He turned and left.

"Well, that was interesting," said Alice.

"He's still adjusting," Ken replied. "Everyone is a little weird when they first arrive. Give the guy a break."

Leigh sighed. "That's going to be a very awkward date."

"You don't have to go," said Alice.

Leigh shrugged. "I haven't had a date in two months. Might as well acquire a new bad-date story. Even if he's a serial killer, he can't do much here. So that's a bonus."

"True. You know, I've always found it strange that, despite the safety aspect, virtual dating never took off in the real world," Alice replied.

"Neither did virtual travel," said Ken. "I think people crave the risks and dangers of real life. Hell, sometimes I miss it." He paused. "Virtual sex isn't bad, though." Ken smiled and nodded to himself, his mind obviously heading to a happier, X-rated place.

Leigh groaned.

Alice suddenly felt tired. There were too many things to figure out, too many mysteries and dead ends. She left the bar soon afterwards, wishing both her friends a good night. As Alice opened the door to the exit, she felt someone watching her and turned. Ben, of course. He waved without the hint of a smile.

She waved back and got out of there.

* * *

Tom called her at eight in the morning, which was pretty early for him. "I have some awesome news!" The exclamation made her more nervous than excited, as did the news. A rising popstar was coming to Austin, and Christine was going to be one of the opening acts. "There should be at least several thousand people there," Tom continued. "And you're going to get to sing a couple of other songs, probably covers."

"That's…I don't know."

"Don't you dare get nervous," said Tom. "You've got this."

"What else should I sing?" She hadn't had a cup of coffee yet, and her brain was scattered as she frantically thought through all this. "Maybe "Unchained Melody"?"

"We'll think about it. Probably something more current."

"What the heck do I wear?"

"No worries. I'll send you shopping with Charlotte." Before Christine could yell at him, Tom said, "Kidding! We'll figure it out. Ike has pretty good taste in clothes."

For a couple days, Christine felt panicked. With Ike's help, she picked out a blue dress that was intentionally similar to the one she had worn for Erik's production, except that it had three quarter sleeves and nearly reached her ankles. Tom helped her choose a more recent song and a 90's ballad. He would be on stage with the guitar, and Josh would play the keyboard.

She started to get a little excited. _Erik, would you be excited for me, too? I wish you could see it._ She rehearsed at any place they happened to be, with or without accompaniment, until she was exhausted. Tom finally made her take a break before "you murder your voice."

The day of her performance, the audience wasn't quite as large as she expected it to be, spread out across the indoor concert venue. Thousands of people really didn't fill that big of a space. Many of the audience members were younger women, so at least they would like her music. Another band sang before her, three cute guys who couldn't have been older than twenty. They received some squeals from the teenagers. While she was still in her early twenties, Christine somehow felt older than all of them.

Then it was her turn. Somewhat confident, Christine smoothed out her dress and started to climb onstage. Tom was already up there, setting up the equipment and instruments. Still a little overwhelmed, though, Christine had tunnel vision and didn't notice everything going on around her. The audience was loud and the lights were bright. To her shock, Charlotte suddenly appeared on the stage. Christine stopped in her tracks as Charlotte grabbed the microphone. The rest of the band froze, too.

In a sticky sweet voice, Charlotte spoke to the crowd, "Hey everyone! Thank you so much for coming out tonight. Now we're all going to welcome little Christine Daae. And everyone take it easy on her, okay? Please! She hasn't performed very much and has been through a lot. So keep your _boos_ to yourself and be really nice to her. Let's all give a warm hand to poor Christine." Charlotte looked at her and practically sneered.

Christine felt her face turn red with disbelief and rage. It was the worst thing Charlotte could have done – to make the whole audience feel pity toward her. To make Christine feel ashamed. There were some murmurs as everyone stared blankly up at them. Christine slowly approached, her hands clenching into fists. With a smile, Charlotte ran off the stage. "Don't worry about it," whispered Tom from Christine's right, his guitar in his hands. "Focus. You have this."

The music began for her first song, and Christine started to sing, even as she felt like throwing up. To her horror, the microphone wasn't working, so no one could even hear her. Charlotte had messed with the microphone! The murmurs grew louder. Christine backed up. She felt too ill to even cry.

Tom and Josh had stopped playing. Tom suddenly came up next to her. He fiddled with the microphone and began to give it back to her. "We'll just start over," he murmured. Christine shook her head. _I can't._ Tom sighed. After a hesitation, he faced the audience and spoke. "All right, everyone. Technical difficulties. Or maybe people difficulties, which are worse!" That got a quiet laugh. The audience started to calm. "So change of plans here. How about we start with a duet? What's everybody's favorite duet? Let me hear them. Come on!"

Engaged once again, people began to call out every duet ever made. Musical songs. Pop songs. Rap songs. Disney songs. Christine was still afraid that she was going to faint. Her legs were shaking. Still, she forced herself to stay on stage.

Tom kept up the act. "Wow. So many choices. Let's keep this PG-13, though, okay?" That got a _boo_. Tom laughed. "Let's see…"

Then the first synthesized notes of a famous 1980's love duet sounded throughout the room. A recording.

"Oh, no," said Tom, turning around with an expression of feigned dismay. Ike and Josh were both playing around with a laptop and the keyboard. "Don't do that to us. Not that one." Ike grinned and gave him a thumbs up. The audience laughed and cheered. "No, that's terrible!" Tom exclaimed. The song kept playing. Tom turned to her. "I think we're trapped, Christine. I don't think there's any way out of this." The audience cheered again. He whispered, "You know this one, right?"

"Yes." Her parents were always playing this kind of stuff when she was a kid. "But…"

"It's going to be fine," said Tom. "These people don't care about you. They just want to have fun. Okay?"

She exhaled and stared at the audience. Her heart calmed, and her hands stopped shaking. Resolve slowly came over her.

Well, why the heck not? Who cared what anyone else thought? Who cared if they thought she was sad or crazy? All that mattered was that she sang her best. Tom started to sing, and she soon joined him. It was an upbeat song that fit her voice fairly well, and everyone looked like they were having a great time, singing along with big grins on their faces. When they finished, Christine was out of breath. The audience clapped. She smiled, the energy in the room giving her a slight feeling of euphoria.

Tom stepped back, and Christine continued singing by herself. People sang with her, some of them dancing, and they didn't look like they pitied her. It wasn't her best performance, but it was more fun than she'd had in a while.

After it was all over, she went to dinner and laughed over the whole thing with everyone else. "I can't believe you made us sing that," said Tom to Ike.

"Oh, I had to," Ike replied. "You both looked so damned awkward up there. I had to make it ten times worse."

"I didn't think you sounded bad," said Randy. "But you needed some dancing to go with it. Dirty dancing."

"Not from me," said Christine. "My dancing is a mess. And that includes my dirty dancing."

"Speaking of a mess, what the hell is up with Charlotte?" Josh asked. Charlotte had disappeared during the concert, and no one had seen her since. She was probably furious about the duet. "She's worse than usual. I'm about ready to boot her."

"Eh, give her some time," said Tom. "You know how she is. I'll talk to her later."

Their motel rooms were all close to each other's. After dinner, Tom walked back with Christine while the others stayed behind to drink and chat in the van. She was exhausted and ready to climb into bed.

"Thanks for your help with everything," she said. "Finding music. Rescuing me on stage."

"No problem. Like I said, I'm going to talk to Charlotte. I had fun, though, so maybe it worked out for the best."

"Yeah," she agreed. "That was more fun than I've had in a while."

"Right? Sometimes we all take ourselves way too seriously."

Outside of her room, Christine faced him. She was about to tell him goodnight. Before she could say anything, Tom leaned down, cupped her cheek with his hand, and gently kissed the right corner of her lips. He leaned back. Christine stood there in shock. Her heart skipped a beat.

A moment of silence passed.

"Tom," she shakily began, shaking her head. "I can't…I don't…"

"It's no big deal," he said, backing up. "Really. I had a great time singing with you. It was just a kiss."

"Just a kiss," she murmured. _It meant nothing to some people. And everything to others._

"Exactly." He paused. "Is it because of what happened to you?"

"Yes. And before you say it, I've been to counseling. It's not what you think. I don't want to date right now, though."

"I understand," he said. "Really. It was only a kiss." He started to go.

"Tom," she began. He stopped. "I think Charlotte likes you. I think that's what all this is about with her." _I think Charlotte sees me like Erik saw Raoul._

Tom gave her an uncomfortable smile. "Heh. Yeah, well, that's not going to happen. I can't handle her. She made me want to become an alcoholic."

"Oh," Christine whispered, glancing down. "Well, then. Love triangles suck."

"Heh. Wait until you're in the middle of a love square. Or a love pentagon. Then the fun really starts."

She wryly smiled. "I think I'll be avoiding those. Goodnight, Tom. Thanks again."

"Goodnight, Christine." He nodded and went into his room.

She sighed and went into her room, locking the door behind her. Raoul had offered her years of gentle love, warmth, and security. Tom could give her a few months of music and excitement, new experiences of all kinds, some of them darker and forbidden.

Neither was enough.

But - Tom had reminded her of being kissed. She suddenly remembered the last time that Raoul had kissed her. It was the evening before she had told him that she couldn't come with him to New England. They had gone out to dinner at a Mexican restaurant, and he had walked her to the front door of her apartment. Raoul had been so excited about their supposed plans. She had already known that they weren't going to happen. He had hugged her and kissed her. She could barely return the kiss, already anticipating the end.

And Erik – he hadn't been able to kiss her back, even as she kissed him. Erik had been anticipating the end, too.

That night, she dreamt of cold hands sliding down her body and cold lips that kissed her back, cold lips on her throat and neck. While she did feel loss and sadness when she awoke, she felt no shame.

It was early in the morning, and she couldn't go back to sleep. Before she even realized what she was doing, Christine reached for her phone on the nightstand. She scrolled through her list of contacts.

There it was. _"Call me if you need anything else."_

Her mind argued - _But you don't need anything._

Her heart responded _\- I do. I need answers._

* * *

It seemed that Alice was doomed to receive no rest or relaxation.

She was enjoying a bowl of popcorn one evening, trying to chill in front of a comedy movie, when her phone rang. _Leigh._ "Hello?"

"Hey. Alice?"

"Yeah. Are you okay?" There was something funny about Leigh's voice.

"Yeah. I'm okay. But I'm really confused. I wanted to get your opinion."

"What's going on?" Alice asked.

"I went out for coffee today with Ben."

Alice's heart jumped. She had somewhat forgotten about the whole thing, too focused on Erik's problems and her work to think about anything else. "Did everything go well?"

"It was weird," Leigh replied. "Like he didn't say anything most of the time, so I basically had a conversation with myself."

Alice calmed down. Gossiping about bad dates was something she could handle. "Oh. Well, maybe it's like Ken said. The kid is confused. I'll tell my mentor they need to give him more help."

"Yeah. But that's not why I'm calling. Ben started asking me about my friends, like all you guys. Then he asked me about Erik. I said that I really didn't know too much about Erik."

"That's good. I wouldn't tell him anything about Erik." _What was with this guy?_

"Uh. That's the thing. After we had coffee, we walked around a little bit. Ben asked where Ken lived. I told him. At that point, I wasn't weirded out. Then he asked where Erik lived. And I told him that, too." Alice gripped the phone. "Then he asked where _you_ lived. I told him I didn't know because I was starting to get a little creeped out. And when he asked where I lived, I told him I had to go." Leigh paused. "So what was that all about?"

"I don't know." Alice took a breath and thought it over. "He seemed really interested in Erik?"

"Yeah. More interested in Erik than anyone else, including me." Leigh paused. "Do you…do you think Ben is interested in Erik? I mean, do you think Ben likes guys?"

"I have no idea. Maybe?" Alice felt her stomach tighten with anxiety. "Look. I have to go. I'll talk to you later."

"Did I do something wrong?"

"No. No, Leigh, you're fine. But I have to go."

Alice was out the door within a minute, her movie still playing on the television. It was nearly dark outside. She ran all the way to Erik's house, not having any idea as to what she expected to find. She had no idea where this was going, only that something felt very, very wrong about it all.

It took her about ten minutes to get there. To her relief, Erik was relatively fine, sitting in the middle of the living room and playing his game.

Alice rubbed her head, wondering if she'd overreacted. She asked, "Erik, have you seen that blond guy again? He hasn't come here, right?" Of course, Erik didn't respond.

Shaking her head, Alice pulled a blanket and pillow from the closet. She was going to stay the night, keep an eye on things. Erik wouldn't even notice she was there. After setting up on the couch, Alice went into the kitchen. It was spotless because Erik never used it in this poor imitation of a real life. She doubted he ever ate or drank anything.

After digging around in his cabinets, Alice started to make popcorn in the microwave. Instead of a movie, she'd watch him play that stupid game. She stood around while the bag popped. She yawned and tried to shake the stress out of her shoulders. The microwave beeped, so she took the hot bag out, pulled it open, and turned to go to the living room.

A face popped into her line of vision. Alice screamed and dropped the bag. The popcorn spilled out onto the floor.

Ben was standing in the kitchen, staring at her. "Oops," he said in a quiet voice. "You made a mess."


	35. Chapter 35

Here we are. This chapter is a contrast of light and dark, hope and despair. This is a pretty dark Erik, and so he required a creepy antagonist.

 **Read and Review!**

It took Alice several seconds to find her voice. "What…what are you doing here?" she asked with disbelief, her heart skipping a beat.

"Hanging out with Erik," Ben replied with ease. "Is something wrong?"

"What? You don't know him!"

"I've seen him around."

"How long have you been here?"

"About an hour."

"I don't think you should be here," said Alice, pointing to the backdoor. She was going to lock all the doors after this. No one in SCI really felt the need to lock anything – but SCI was not the place that it had been. "You need to leave."

"I was here first," Ben replied. He called out, "Hey, Erik! Do you mind me being here?" There was no response. Ben turned back to Alice with the hint of a smile. "I think he's fine with it."

"Who are you?" she asked. "Why do you want to see him? You don't know him!"

"Erik and I have a lot in common," said Ben, tilting his head to the side.

"What is that supposed to mean?" Alice snapped.

"I like video games," Ben replied, and there was something sarcastic about his tone. He bent down and picked up a piece of popcorn from the floor. With a strange smile, he tossed it in the air and then caught it with his mouth. "Yum." He headed back toward the living room. Hands clenched into fists, Alice followed him. Ben sat on the couch, leaned forward, and watched Erik play. Alice nervously swallowed. What was she supposed to do? This wasn't an emergency. It was just bizarre.

At least Ben was being quiet. Alice sat down and began to think over her options. Was Corey back yet? No, not until tomorrow. There was Ken, but how would she explain this?

Was she overthinking it? Could Ben simply like Erik and want to be his friend? Alice took a deep breath and leaned back into the cushion. _Well, hey, maybe Erik could use another friend._

She and Ben sat there for nearly an hour, watching Erik play. Alice tried to get herself to relax, but there was something too weird about this situation. When she attempted to make conversation, Ben's answers were brief, and his tone was annoyed. He definitely didn't want her to be there.

"Where are you from, Ben?"

"Around."

"Did you go to college?"

"No."

"What are your hobbies?"

She got no response to that one. Alice gave up. She was staring at the screen, fingers pressing against her temple, not paying attention – when Ben finally spoke. He spoke to Erik.

"Good job, Erik," he murmured, leaning forward with his hands folded. "Amazing. That was quite the kill."

Alice blinked. She hadn't even focused on what game Erik was playing. It was a war game, a sort of futuristic apocalyptic game where you shot bad guys that worked for an authoritarian regime. Ken had probably given it to him. _I will never forgive you for introducing Erik to video games, Ken._

"You're very good at that," Ben continued as Erik slaughtered a team of evil soldiers with a semiautomatic rifle. "Perfect aim. Perfect technique. Smart. Stealthy. It's beautiful." There was something almost sensual about the way he spoke. He talked in a way that people normally did when describing great sex or high quality chocolate.

Erik didn't say anything.

Alice felt her stomach turn. She stared at Ben. Never had she gotten such a bad feeling around anyone, including the real Erik. "Why don't you get out of here?" she asked. She tried a different angle. "Erik obviously doesn't _care_ that you're here. He's ignoring you."

"Why don't you make me leave?" Ben calmly replied.

"What the hell is your problem?"

Ben stared at her with contempt. "My problem is that you're being annoying, Alice. I'm having a nice time with Erik. I appreciate him for who he is. Do you?" Ben shook his head. "I doubt it. Why are you being so negative? What are you? His mother?" Ben coldly chuckled.

A possibility slowly became apparent. _Did Ben know who the real Erik was?_

Her only comfort was that no one could be hurt in SCI. Otherwise, Alice would have started searching for a way to defend herself.

Danger vibrated throughout that room.

* * *

Her fingers came so close to pushing the button that would dial Nadir Khan's number, but Christine still wasn't sure what she would say. She felt as though she were reopening a door into the unknown, heading down a path that could lead to some bad places. Still, she felt the pull of the decision. These days, she couldn't get _him_ out of her mind no matter how hard she tried.

"You ready to go?" Tom asked after knocking on her door the next morning. He didn't give any indication that he was upset over their conversation. He was a guy who got over things quickly.

"Sure. Where to next?" asked Christine.

"Heading west. Maybe we could stay in the mountains for a couple days. Randy's family has a cabin that we use sometimes."

"Sounds good." She packed and got ready to go. Her phone rested on the nightstand, and she kept glancing at it.

A day later, Christine found herself at a two-star motel in the middle of flat Kansas. Charlotte was back with them, but Christine ignored her. The rest of the band was friendly enough, and Christine somewhat felt as though she belonged. And still sometimes felt as though she didn't.

After midnight, as Christine lay awake mulling over her options, she heard voices outside of her door. Charlotte and Tom. She got up to listen. Eavesdropping wasn't on her list of deadly sins.

"You've got to knock that shit off," said Tom.

"I was having a little fun," Charlotte replied, nearly whining. "Everyone is making it into too big of a deal. Why are you so protective of her?"

"Why the hell do you think? She went through a lot. And I wouldn't have to protect her at all if you weren't constantly being a…being nasty to her. Okay? So stop it. Jesus."

Charlotte huffed. "Whatever." A pause. "Can I come in?"

"I'm not in the mood for you," Tom replied.

"Just for a little while?" Charlotte asked, her voice softer. "There's nothing to do here. I'm bored."

Tom groaned. "Whatever. Don't change the station. I'm watching a game."

"Do you have any beer?" Charlotte asked.

That was the last Christine heard before their voices were muffled.

Well, not exactly. She eventually heard some other sounds coming from that room.

Christine got back into bed and stared at the ceiling. There was something kind of lonely about this world, something a little hollow even amidst all the excitement.

She dreamt of _him_ again that night. She dreamt that she held him in her arms, her fingers brushing against his pale chest. He apologized for being there. She told him that it was okay, that she wanted him.

In the morning, Christine finally picked up the phone. She pushed the button to dial, her heart pounding. The call went straight to voicemail. Only the automated lady spoke, telling her that she'd reached the correct number but giving no associated name.

"Hi," Christine said, her voice raspy. "Hi. This is, um, Christine Daae. I'm guessing you remember me. I was wondering if you, um, could give me a call. I want to talk to you. I'd really appreciate it. Thank you." She hung up. Her arm dropped to her side. _Did I really do that?_

Did she regret it? No. Definitely not.

She made sure that the volume of her phone's ringtone was high.

All she could do now was wait.

* * *

Alice tried to think through every fact she knew, everyone she knew of, every possibility. "Are you Daniel?" she finally asked. He was the only person who seemed twisted enough to act like this. Maybe he was running some terrible science experiment.

Ben blinked. "Daniel? Oh. That nerd? If I were him, I'd off myself."

Alice ignored his harshness, determined to not get in another stupid conversation with him. "Do you work for SCI?"

Ben didn't answer. Erik shot someone else in the game, sneaking up behind them to do so. He hit the soldier in the back of the head, sending a spray of blood into the air. "Good job!" Ben exclaimed, clapping his hands together twice. "Remarkable!"

"That is enough!" Alice jumped up, grabbed the controller from Erik, and turned off the game.

"Hey!" Ben angrily exclaimed and rose to his feet.

Erik only sat there, staring into space. His hands dropped into his lap. Alice tossed the controller on the floor and turned to Ben. "If you don't get out, I'm calling someone. I don't know who you are, but I don't think you're supposed to be here."

"Why don't you get out?" Ben asked, his face very near to hers. She could see into those cool blue eyes, and it was not a happy place. "You're boring everyone." Ben pushed past her. He dropped to his knees beside Erik. As Alice's mouth fell open, Ben reached out and put an arm around Erik's curved shoulders. "Erik and I are very good friends now. He doesn't need you. You're the one who doesn't belong."

Erik sat hunched over under the weight of Ben's arm. He stared at the floor.

While no one could get hurt here, Alice wasn't ready to physically remove Ben. There would be no pain, but there was still force and pressure. Ben was likely stronger than she was. He might end up pushing her out of the house and locking the door, trapping himself in there with Erik.

Alice headed into the kitchen. She expected Ben to try and stop her. He didn't. She made the call.

Thankfully, someone answered right away. "SCI patient emergency hotline. How may I help you?"

"Hi. This is Alice Hastings, and I have a…situation. One of the residents is harassing another. He's a new guy. His name is Ben, and I don't know much about him. He's harassing a resident named Erik."

"Could you please explain what you mean by harassing?" asked the woman on the other end. She sounded kind of bored.

"He's being…" Alice realized that she was going to sound stupid. The main problem with this situation was Erik's deteriorating condition. How was she supposed to explain all that? What if she got Erik into trouble by revealing his identity to an SCI employee who wasn't supposed to know about him?

"Hello?" asked the woman.

Alice decided to lie. "Ben is beating up on Erik. Bullying him. Taunting him. Pushing him around. That kind of thing. Maybe there's something wrong with Ben. You should look into him."

The woman sounded a little more interested. "Oh? Okay. Thank you for reporting this. We'll look into it immediately."

"Do you need more information?" Alice asked.

"No," the woman abruptly replied. "Thank you. We'll handle it."

"Please do," Alice replied. She hung up. Shaking her head, she went back into the living room. She suddenly stopped walking and shuddered at the scene occurring before her. Goose bumps ran up and down her arms.

Ben was still beside Erik, his arm draped around him. He was speaking into Erik's ear in a low voice. Alice quietly came closer to hear - "…and this isn't you. I know who you are. So do you, Erik. So wake up."

Erik stared forward, his eyes somehow appearing both blank and deranged at the same time. His mouth was drawn into a thin line. His hands were curled into fists.

"Wake up," Ben repeated. "There's a new game to play."

So much for not being physical. Alice ran over, bent down, and grabbed Ben by the right arm with both of her hands. She used all of her strength to pull him away from Erik. "Who the hell are you?!" she yelled. "Get out!"

She managed to yank Ben back by a couple of inches. Ben hopped to his feet and turned toward her, glaring. Alice froze. Ben sneered. "Sit down and shut up," he said. With both hands, he shoved her backwards – _hard._

With a cry, Alice flew back. She ran into the couch and fell upon it. _No pain. Only force. Only fear._ She had to remind herself of these things as her heart pounded and the adrenaline flowed. It still took her a moment to recover.

Ben was beside Erik again, speaking to him. "If you wake up, we'll have fun. In here. Out there. We'll have fun, Erik. Because we can be masters of the game." Something glimmered in Ben's hand.

Alice gasped. Ben held a very sharp steak knife.

* * *

A day passed, and there was no phone call. What if that were no longer Nadir's number? It would make sense that, after everything, Nadir would seek privacy.

Christine tried to focus on her new life, as difficult as that was. "Where are we singing next?" she asked Tom. She had been growing a little impatient with the lull.

"We have a couple of events in Denver," he replied. "Some of those will be good for you. And, hey, that cookie becomes legal." He grinned. "I figured we needed a break. We do this sometimes. Hang out for a while without any performances. Figure out new songs, that kind of thing."

"I see," she said with slight disappointment.

But it didn't end up mattering that much. While they were riding in the van, late in the afternoon, her phone rang. She looked at the screen, and her heart jumped. Tom was sitting beside her, but she still answered. "Hello?"

"Yes. Christine? Is everything okay?" Nadir sounded alarmed, probably thinking she was in trouble. "I'm sorry I didn't get back to you sooner. The reception out here isn't great."

It was so good to hear his deep and pleasant voice. "Yes. I'm fine," she replied, gripping the phone. "I...I've been thinking these last few months. I want to know more. I feel like I only have half the story. I want to talk to you. About… _him_."

There was a long silence. Nadir finally replied, "Christine. You poor girl. Have you gotten some counseling?"

"Yes!" Before he could say anything, she continued, "Please don't treat me like everyone else. I just want someone to listen and talk to me. I think you're the only one who can kind of understand."

Nadir sighed. "I don't know. I think you need to move beyond this. What about Raoul? Have you tried talking to him?"

"I guess you don't read the gossip columns. Raoul and I broke up a long time ago. I've actually been touring with a band, singing a little bit."

"That sounds…fun."

"It is. It's helped a little bit. I love to sing. But I still can't forget. I need to know more."

"Christine, you need to move on and - "

"If you don't talk to me, I'm going to completely…go wild and crazy." Tom sharply looked at her, obviously amused. She sounded ridiculous on purpose, teasing Nadir, hoping he wouldn't see her as a broken person who needed to be protected. "I'm going to Denver. My friend, Tom, says that there are legal cookies in Colorado. I mean, legal cookies that aren't legal in other places. I'm sure I could get a lot of other stuff, too. Right, Tom?"

She held the phone up toward him. Tom blinked and then wryly joined in, "Yep. She's going to go completely crazy. Crack. Mushrooms. You name it, we've got it."

Smiling, Christine put the phone back up to her ear. "And I don't think that Tom is talking about mushrooms that go on pizza. I'm going to do other wild things, too. I might get a tattoo. Or a nose piercing. So help me before I do those things because I'm not very good with pain." Christine nervously waited, hoping this wouldn't completely backfire on her. And that Nadir hadn't hung up.

There was the longest pause. And then Nadir started laughing. He had a nice, warm, long laugh. "Oh, my," he said, out of breath. "You did spend too much time with _him_ , didn't you?" Christine's heart ached at those words. There was affection in Nadir's tone, though, and she felt that she had made the right decision. "Are you seriously going to Colorado?"

"Yes. Why?"

"I'm staying in a cabin here."

"Really?"

"Yes," said Nadir. "And I'll talk to you, Christine. If you think that will help, I'll talk to you."

* * *

"Okay," Ben said, gripping the knife. "This was supposed to be a much slower process. Because of your Mommy over there, though, there isn't a whole lot of time. She's never going to leave us alone." He grabbed Erik's right hand. He forced the wooden handle of the knife into Erik's palm. Ben carefully wrapped Erik's fingers around it. Ben leaned back onto his knees. Erik held the knife in the air, staring at it. "Now come get me," said Ben, spreading his arms out at his sides. "It's just a game, you know? Another video game. Come get me."

Throughout all this, Alice watched, mesmerized with terror. Her mind desperately went through her options. Only one thing was certain – she had to get Erik out of here. They had to run away from this psychopath, whomever he was.

Erik's gaze darted between Ben and the knife.

Ben grunted and shoved Erik's shoulder. "I said come after me. Stab me, you little bitch!" Erik blinked twice. "Come on, you stupid little pussy. Come after me. I know you want to. You know who you are. So come on!"

Alice stood and hurried to stand behind Erik. "Erik, get up," she said, nearly choking on her own voice. She gently grabbed his shoulder, fully aware he was holding a weapon. _No pain. No death. Only fear._ "You have to get up. Get away from him! We need to leave. We're going to run!"

Ben ignored her and continued to speak to Erik, "I know what you did to those officers. I know what you were going to do to the legislature. Why'd you stop? And I know what you did to the little blonde slut. Did she scream for you in that pretty voice of hers? You have to at least remember that."

This had gone from creepy to utterly horrific.

"Erik, come with me!" screamed Alice. "Get up and come with me! _Run!_ _You have to run!_ "

In an eerily fluid motion, Ben stood. He came toward her. Before she could react, Ben pulled back his right arm and punched her hard in the left cheek, near her eye. It felt like someone had only tapped her on the face. The lights flashed. A crackle of static. There was a glitch in the room, as the System sensed unauthorized activity. Then Ben shoved her. She felt pressure against her chest, then pressure against her head and back as she flew into the wall.

The colors blurred. Alice was in shock, dizzy and disoriented, leaning back against the cold plaster.

A scream echoed in her ears – primal and enraged. Erik's scream.

Followed by Ben's laughter. Hysterical, uncontained laughter.

The world came back into focus. Alice felt her heart plunge as she stared downward.

Ben was lying flat on his back. Erik was crouched on top of Ben's stomach, one hand gripping Ben's lower neck and the other hand holding the knife tightly against his throat. The lights blinked, and the sound of crackling continued. There was a shift to the colors, a dullness. The shadows were off center. The knife penetrated Ben's flesh, but there was no blood. The blade went through his skin like butter, like a hologram through reality.

Erik snarled in frustration.

Ben laughed and laughed.

* * *

"Do you think you'll come back?" asked Tom. It was the day after she had talked to Nadir. Tom stood in her motel room, where she had stayed overnight with the band for the final time.

"I don't know," she admitted. "Can I?"

"Of course," he replied. "You're always welcome." Yet Christine had the feeling that her time with them had come to an end. Maybe that was why Tom gently added, "And if not, let me know if you want some connections into the industry. I can definitely help you out there."

She smiled. "Thanks. That helps a lot. I do want to keep singing."

"You should. You have to." Tom watched her fold a shirt. "Do you care if I ask where you're going?"

"Uh. To talk to someone who might be able to give me more answers about some things. Sorry that's kind of vague, but it's all I can say right now."

"No problem."

She folded a pair of pants. "I've felt bad about so many things," she said. "I've felt like no one understands, like I'm weird and crazy." Christine looked up at him. "It kind of clicked on stage, right before our duet, when you said that the audience didn't care about me. At first, that seemed offensive. But then I realized – it's actually great. Who cares if people don't understand? Why should I let a bunch of people who don't know me, who don't care about me, affect my life?"

"Exactly," said Tom with a nod. "I'm glad you've learned a lesson in not giving a damn."

"Yes," she said. "I don't know what will happen next. But I finally feel…authentic, I guess."

Tom smiled. "That's all you can be." He looked a little confused.

She walked over and gave him a hug. "Thanks for everything!"

He slowly hugged her back. "Christine Daae. I don't think I've ever met someone with so many secrets."

"I have," she said into his ear.

He chuckled. "I bet you have." She pulled back and released him. "You take care of yourself. I don't want to see you in the news again for anything besides singing." Tom had a funny expression. Maybe he knew more than she thought he did. Maybe her intentions were written all over her face.

"I'll be fine," she said and wasn't sure if that was the truth. "You take care, too, Tom."

He gave her a little wave, a last glance, and then he left.

* * *

Erik's face was twisted into a scowl out of hell, as though he were a blend of his two selves. He was breathing hard but making no sound. One hand had moved to grip Ben by the hair. He continued to slice the knife into Ben's neck to no avail.

Ben was completely delighted by the fact that Erik was unsuccessfully trying to murder him. "There you go, Erik!" he shouted. "There you go! I knew you were in there! I knew it! Wake up!"

Alice felt utterly sick. A part of her brain was telling her to run, to get far away from these two very damaged people. Yet she was too involved now. She was the only sanity in that room.

"Erik," Alice pled. She knelt at about a foot away from them. "Stop! Please stop! Run with me." She dared to grab his shoulder. "Erik! _Please._ " She felt the tears on her cheeks and in her voice. "Erik, we have to go! Stop it! It's not even doing anything! You can't do _that_ here."

Erik froze. He turned to stare at her, still scowling, his narrowed eyes resembling those of a predator. Ben yelled, "No, don't listen to her! Keep going! Keep going, you ugly motherfucker!"

"Erik, stop!" she yelled, trying to drown out Ben.

" _Do it, Erik! Do it!"_

And then - Ben disappeared from beneath him. Ben vanished as though he'd never been there at all.

For a moment, Alice feared that Erik would disappear, too.

He didn't, though. He looked back at where Ben had lain. Erik blinked, obviously startled. He dropped the knife, and it hit the carpet with a soft thud. He fell backwards and scooted away with a bewildered expression on his face. He looked at his hands, probably searching for blood, but there was none.

"It's all right," Alice whispered, slowly crawling closer. "It's all right, Erik. He's gone now." _God forbid he ever comes back. If he does, I will sue the damned company for emotional distress._

Erik lowered his whole body onto the floor, lying down on his side. He brought his knees up to his chest, curling into a fetal position. Alice touched his arm. Erik flinched. He folded his arms up near his heart and crossed his wrists, making himself as small as possible.

She didn't know what to say. She didn't even know which Erik she was speaking to, if either of them.

Erik softly spoke, his voice dull, "He wanted me to cut him. But nothing cuts here."

"I know," said Alice. "He was crazy. Something was very wrong with him."

But it wasn't Ben's insanity that concerned Erik. "There was no way out of here," he muttered. "Nothing cuts. Or bleeds. And there is no way out. But why did he get out? Why did he go? And I cannot? Because nothing bleeds. Nothing ever bleeds…"

Alice closed her eyes as his words and their meaning sunk in. She found calm. And then asked, with no trace of judgment, "Erik, have you been trying to harm yourself?"

He did not respond. All his muscles seemed to unwind at once, and he lay limply on the floor.

She wanted to comfort him. But it suddenly occurred to Alice that she needed to preserve her memories as quickly as possible, before they were stolen. She was lucky to still have them now. Alice took out her phone and called Corey. She left a message, telling him everything that she could as quickly as possible. After she hung up, Alice wrote down the events of that night into a spiral notebook, adding as many details as she could remember.

Maybe SCI would find a way to erase all of her work, but at least she had tried.

She stayed awake all night. Erik remained on the floor, curled up in a ball, likely willing himself into nonexistence. She ached for him. But she did not know what to say.

Corey arrived early the next afternoon, knocking at the door after she had locked all of them. Alice opened it and blinked in the sunlight. She threw her arms around his neck and sobbed, finally able to lose it, even though she barely remembered why she was so upset.

* * *

She saw Charlotte one last time.

Christine was meeting a cab outside the motel, which would take her to the bus station. Nadir had helped her plan her transportation route. He would eventually pick her up at another bus stop.

With her belongings in tow, Christine went out to the parking lot to wait. It had rained the night before, and the air was still misty. Clouds hung low overhead, but it was still warmer outside than she had expected it to be. Christine removed her heavy jacket. As she was stuffing it inside her suitcase, she noticed Charlotte standing outside the van. Her arms were crossed. Christine was planning to completely ignore her.

"Couldn't handle it all?" Charlotte asked, loudly.

Christine rolled her eyes and turned. "I could handle it just fine," she replied. "I have something else that I need to do."

Charlotte smirked. "Sure you do."

"Isn't this what you want?" Christine asked. "Me gone? Isn't this your perfect ending? Why do you care what I'm doing?"

Charlotte wrinkled her nose. "I don't _care_ what you do. I think it's kind of pathetic that you're leaving."

"Oh my God!" Christine exclaimed, shaking her head, nearly amused. "Do you like having me here so that you can be mean to someone? Is that it?" Charlotte's eyes narrowed, and she scowled. "I don't get what your problem is," Christine continued. "I don't even care. But you're obviously really unhappy."

"Get the fuck out of here!" Charlotte snapped.

"I am!" Christine exclaimed. "Maybe you should, too. Tom obviously isn't making you happy. The band isn't. None of this is. So why are _you_ here?"

Charlotte took several angry steps toward her. There was a large crack in the parking lot asphalt, and she tripped on it. Charlotte stumbled and fell onto her hands and knees, right into a large puddle. Her black boots and tight dark blue jeans were soaked. She released a cry of anger and stared down at her bleeding palms.

Christine looked down at her with pity. "I have seen so much misery," she stated. "I've seen people trapped in it. My own mother killed herself. I found her first…And someone else that I knew – he couldn't see any way out." Charlotte stared at the ground, jaw clenched. "I've been kind of miserable, too. And I'm going to try to fix that now. Life's too short…" Christine swallowed. "Stop being a miserable person before you have nothing left, before you're alone. Have a nice life. And I honestly mean that."

Her cab arrived. Christine quickly climbed inside as the driver helped with her suitcase. She glanced out the window once before they drove away. She was pretty sure that Charlotte was crying.

With a sigh, Christine put on her headphones and leaned back into the seat. Her travels went by quickly. The scenery was pretty but unchanging. Prairie with snowcapped mountains in the distance. Then there were more hills and conifer trees. She managed to feel both nervous and relieved. Listening to music, a medley of both modern pop and classics, helped calm her. Music was always an old friend.

At her final stop, she climbed off the bus with her luggage, softly thanking the driver. She waited about five minutes. It was colder here at a higher elevation.

A silver car pulled up. She hesitated. But then she could see him in the window. Nadir parked against the curb. He climbed out, and she approached him. "Hello, Christine," he said, a little awkwardly.

"Hi, Nadir." She smiled and, after a pause, gave him a hug. He seemed surprised but slowly and loosely embraced her.

She didn't ask any questions during their drive, merely appreciating it for what it was - a quiet period of time spent with someone who might somewhat understand.


	36. Chapter 36

Moving forward here. I know that some readers may be upset by certain characters' actions in this chapter, but each character is coming at this situation with their own unique life perspective.

Thank you for all the lovely reviews on the last chapter. I liked your insights into my villain and his contrasts to Erik.

 **Read and Review!**

"Well, that was a disaster," said Daniel, one hand holding a phone and the other gripping a clipboard. "I told you it was too early to put him in there!"

Hope pushed past him, lips pursed, eyes wide with anger.

"Where are you going?" asked Daniel. He hurried after her, following her into Nicholas's room. Nicholas was still strapped down to the chair but now out of the black helmet and goggles, fully awake. Cords ran out of his body in all directions.

Nicholas blinked at them. Then he smiled. "Is Erik awake?" he asked. "Did you see what he tried to do to me? He was so violent! Is he awake now?"

"No," Daniel began. "We knew it all had to-"

Before Daniel could finish, Hope drew back her right hand and slapped Nicholas across the face.

"Ow! Bitch!" Nick flinched. His cheek turned bright red. "What the hell?"

"Do with you," Daniel softly finished with a swallow. He cleared his throat.

Glaring, Hope turned and left the room.

"Why didn't you wake up Erik?" Nick called after her, obviously undeterred by the slap. "I was only having fun. He was the one who started stabbing me." Nick sounded utterly delighted.

She ignored him, too angry to reply, and knew that he was lying. Daniel followed her. "Look," he said. "We have to get Nicholas to accept the System before we do that again. I warned you that he wasn't ready. It's going to take time. And tests. And then more time and more tests."

"You can't even get Erik worked out," she said, bitterly. "How are you ever going to fix Nick?"

Daniel lowered his head. "We always knew this was an ambitious project. SCI was never designed for mind manipulation. The individual has to want it, to accept it. Otherwise, it's not going to work. I don't know what's wrong with Erik. I'm still looking into it, experimenting with different things, playing around with his head."

Hope shook her head, disgusted and full of despair. "Patient D arrived this morning," she muttered. "You might as well make yourself useful by working on that." She left him standing there by himself.

* * *

They erased Alice's notebook.

They did not erase her message to Corey. Thank God for Corey. He was her bridge to the other side, and SCI was less able to mess with him. He told her everything that she had said on the phone. The horrible memories returned to her quickly, her brain filling in the gaps.

They briefly discussed Ben, but Corey knew absolutely nothing. He was shocked by what had transpired, increasingly furious with SCI. "I'll have to look into it," he said. "I'll ask around, see if any new patients came in with a similar profile."

Then the conversation turned to Erik. Alice remembered her discovery and nearly started crying again. She also remembered her conclusions.

"He's miserable here," she said as they sat in the kitchen. She and Corey had carried Erik to his bed. Erik lay there now atop the comforter, curled into a silent and motionless ball. "How can we even leave him alone? If he's in here trying to kill himself?"

Corey shook his head. "I wonder what's wrong with him. He was fine the first time he came here."

"It could be a lot of things. Imagine having all these conflicting memories running around in your head. Imagine that someone keeps messing with your thoughts and your brain. Just from my limited experience, I know it'd be torture." Alice grimaced. "What if they're torturing him? What if they've permanently altered him?"

"So you want him out?" Alice nodded. Corey winced. "The only way that I know how to do that is through Nadir. And you know what that means."

Alice stared forward, queasy. She did know what it meant. In an even voice, she replied, "Years ago, I wanted to die. I was miserable. No matter how much I begged my family and doctors, they wouldn't let me go. SCI was my miracle. I had hoped it would be Erik's miracle, too. It's not. I was wrong. It's no longer ethical to keep him here."

The time was growing later. The sun was going down, casting them in shadows. Corey stared forward and seemed to be thinking very hard. Alice knew that Corey enjoyed finding solutions to problems. He couldn't seem to come up with anything, his forehead crinkling in frustration. "So you want me…you want me to tell Nadir to get Erik out, no matter what happens?" Corey's voice trembled, and Alice could hear the unasked question – _You want me to have him killed?_

"I don't know what else to do." Alice spread out her hands. "I can't get Erik to talk to me, to tell me what he wants. After yesterday, I can't get him to say anything. Are we supposed to monitor him twenty-four hours a day to make sure he's not slitting his wrists? What kind of life is that?" Alice sighed. "I feel like I'm giving up. But I'm exhausted, and I have no other answer."

"It would exhaust anyone," said Corey. "Don't be so hard on yourself. This is an impossible situation. You've done everything that you can, more than I ever would have."

"I feel so damned bad for him. But what can I offer? Volleyball games? Movie nights? I don't even know what to say. I can't make him any promises that this is all going to get better." She placed her forehead in her palms. "Sometimes I resent him because he can't pull himself together. And I know that it's not his fault, so I feel even worse. Still, it's frustrating."

Corey got up and came to stand beside her. He bent down and put an arm her shoulders. "Alice. You've done the best that any of us can do. I think you're amazing. But maybe there is no way to fix this." Corey glanced to the side. "Maybe he needs more than any of us can give."

"What do you mean by that?" Alice asked. "What else _can_ we give?"

Corey opened his mouth to reply but seemed to struggle with the words. "Never mind," he said. "It was a stupid comment."

Alice didn't press him into what might have been a painful conversation. After a moment, she got up. She went into the bedroom where Erik lay in his ball. Corey followed. Reaching out, she grabbed Erik's upper arm. She shook him and said, in her loudest voice, "Erik. Can you hear me?! We're going to try to get you out. And then that might be it. Once you're out, that might be it." Her voice cracked, but she continued, "Do you understand? If that's not what you want, you'd better scream. If you want to stay alive, to stay in here, scream. Scream it! Scream if you want to live!"

Erik was still and silent, unchanging. Alice glanced at his face. Erik's eyes were open, blankly staring forward. He gave no indication that he knew either of them were there. He looked nearly dead.

"We'll give him another couple of days," she said. "If he stays like this…."

"Right," said Corey. "I agree."

They remained at Erik's apartment for the rest of the night and the next day, waiting for a change in him that never happened. Alice finally got some sleep, leaning against Corey, a blanket spread over them both on the couch.

Eventually, she had to say it. "It's time to make the call."

* * *

During the thirty minute drive, Nadir received one phone call, which he answered. "I'm sorry. I can't talk right now." The person on the other must have persisted. In a firm voice, Nadir replied. "I can't, Corey. I'll call you back later."

Christine was curious but didn't pry. _Corey…_

There was something slightly familiar about that name.

She stared out the window as they drove down a winding dirt road. It was nearly evening. Even in the dim light, though, Christine was certain that Nadir had the cutest cabin she had ever seen, tucked back from the main streets. Perched on a hill, it had a perfectly triangular roof and four square windows. An empty red hummingbird feeder hung on the porch. The air smelled of pine. "I love it here," she said as Nadir helped with her luggage.

He glanced at the cabin. "Thank you. I wanted to get out of that city."

"So did I," she said.

They climbed a short set of steps up to the porch. Nadir fumbled for his key. "So you've been touring with a band?" he asked.

"Yeah." She shyly smiled. "It was a strange experience. But I'm glad I did it."

"Hm." He led her inside. She smelled burnt firewood. Beautiful Persian carpets covered the floorboards. There wasn't a lot of furniture. He had a couple of crimson armchairs in the living room, along with a simple square coffee table that matched the floors. A bowl of apples and bananas sat out on a kitchen table that had two chairs around it.

"Where do you do your shopping?" she asked.

"There's a town about twenty minutes away. It has a grocery store and a Wal-Mart. I can get anything I need there." He rummaged around in his cabinets and then set out a bag of tortilla chips and a jar of salsa. "I bought a roast chicken and some potato salad. I hope this will be enough for you?" He scratched the back of his head.

"As long as I don't have to eat Taco Bell again, I'm great," she replied. "Thank you. You didn't have to do anything."

"Well, I at least wanted to give you some dinner. Would you like tea?" he asked. "Or a soda?"

"Tea would be great, thanks."

He filled a kettle with water and put it on the stove.

She looked around his home, noting a black and white picture of a couple who must have been his parents. It was very quiet here. It also dawned on her that she didn't know Nadir very well. Any acquaintance of Erik had to be a complicated person. Still, she didn't sense danger. And Erik, while annoyed by Nadir, had always spoken of him in a positively tinted light.

After snacking on chips and potato salad, Christine settled into an armchair with her cup of black tea. Nadir sat in the other one, and they faced each other at a diagonal. "It's peaceful here," she murmured.

"I'm very grateful for it. I think I've had enough excitement in my lifetime." A moment of silence passed as they sipped their tea.

"So," she softly began. "I came here because I wanted to know a little more about Erik, from your point of view. He told me some things about his past. But not everything. And I thought…I thought maybe you could give a different perspective."

Nadir nodded. "I don't know the answer to everything that you might ask. Erik isn't…wasn't the type of person to give you his whole life story."

She inwardly winced at Nadir's change to past tense. As though Erik were dead. Still, she remained calm. "He said that he raised himself," she began, giving Nadir a window to continue.

"Yes. I only know a little about his childhood. He never knew his father. His mother was…not really a mother at all. Erik was severely neglected until she finally left him alone to die. After she abandoned him, he searched for her. When he found her, she pretended to not know who he was. So Erik was raised by the streets from about eight-years-old onwards."

"He said that he received no education, too," she said. "But he's so smart."

"He was mostly self-educated," Nadir agreed. "I think he made passing references to one of his mother's cousins. She was kinder. I think she taught him how to read and write, enough so that he could pick up the rest by himself."

"What happened to her?" Although Christine really meant – _Why didn't she save him?_

"I believe she died while Erik was still very young." Nadir shrugged. "Doesn't matter now. Erik raised himself. He learned to steal, to do whatever he needed to survive. And so he became a force to be reckoned with. A force with very little moral direction."

"I can't believe that social services or the foster system didn't step in," she said, shaking her head. "If I saw an eight-year-old running around the streets with no supervision, I'd call the police."

"I imagine that Erik was tall for his age, as well as frightening in appearance. So people probably thought that he was older and didn't want to get involved."

"That's sad," was all she could say.

Nadir nodded and continued, "I don't have a lot of details about the rest of Erik's youth. Except that very bad people used him to their advantage. He was a genius without any sense of right and wrong. He moved quickly and silently. His talents were coveted by some very evil men who were willing to pay him money to do their bidding."

"He killed for them…"

"Among other things. And that's where I came in. A lot of bad guys died in a short period of time, turf wars mostly. While I wasn't exactly unhappy about that, I also didn't like the idea of a mass murderer running around free. Erik knew that I was searching for him. He toyed with me for a while. I thought he was going to kill me. I was ready to arrest or kill him. But instead - we began a strange relationship. When it came to crimes dealing with drugs and weapons, Erik was my enemy. When it came to activities like human trafficking and child slavery, he was my ally. And so I turned a blind eye to many of his deeds. My career advanced. Erik continued to do what he did. It wasn't exactly an ethical arrangement, but we managed to do some good."

She nodded. "Erik mentioned some of that, how you two met."

"Yes. And it all went well until it became more…personal."

"Personal?"

"Erik slowly began to trust me. He told me things about himself, about his past. I listened, more curious than anything, shocked that this phantom of a man was making himself seem more human. He eventually revealed that he was tired of his current life. His primary employer was becoming more interested in activities that Erik found repulsive. I told Erik he should get out of the business. Go for it. But I didn't offer more support." Nadir leaned forward, grimacing. "I regret that. But Erik seemed invincible to me, unafraid of anyone. I didn't understand that he was subtly asking for my help…"

"Something bad happened, didn't it?" she asked, fingers pressing into her palms.

"Yes. Do you know this part?"

"Erik hinted at it, but he didn't want to tell me. It was very bad, wasn't it?"

"It was a disaster. I'll tell you enough to give you a basic understanding as to another reason for why Erik was…off-kilter. He was captured and put through hell for an entire month. There was physical torture, yes. But it was the mental torment that did the job. He was knocked unconscious and chained down. Somehow, either using drugs or virtual reality and a blindfold, they then convinced Erik that they had blinded him. Permanently. They said they had removed his eyes."

Christine shuddered. "But they obviously didn't."

"No. But, for a month, Erik believed that they had. They tortured and humiliated him, made him think that would be his permanent existence. And it even went beyond that…"

"What do you mean?"

Nadir hesitated as though trying to put it delicately. "His eyes weren't the only parts they claimed to have removed."

Christine felt her heart drop. "Did they?" she half-choked, her eyes locked with his. She nearly spilled tea on herself. The last months had made her stronger, but some things were still too horrible.

"No. Because all of this was done to terrify Erik into submission. A month doesn't sound like a long time. But every passing minute must have felt like hell – chained down and believing himself to be blinded and castrated, subjected to their cruelty and depravity for the rest of his life. He lost his mind in there, became catatonic. When it was over and the truth was revealed, his employer stated that that _would_ be Erik's fate if Erik ever dared crossed him again. He made sure that Erik was hooked on an awful drug and forced him back into criminal life." Nadir leaned back into the chair. His right hand trembled slightly.

"You couldn't have known," Christine murmured, trying to reassure him, trying to reassure herself. "Erik does seem invincible at times. He wants to be seen that way, I think."

"I guess so." Nadir sighed. "For a year, Erik was out of my reach in more ways than one. I didn't see him for a long time. I saw his crimes. One night, when I came to investigate, he waited for me. With my gun drawn and pointed at his chest, I asked what had happened. Why was he still doing this? Erik claimed that it was his fate to be the Angel of Death. I could see the chaos in his eyes. The pills had made him insane. Still, I didn't shoot. I almost did. But then I caught sight of the scars on his arms and I knew…"

"That something bad had happened," she finished. No wonder Nadir wanted to hide away in this cabin. His memories were so sad.

"By some miracle, I got Erik to come with me, back to my apartment. He told me what had happened. He said he couldn't think anymore, could barely function – and that he saw no way out."

"What'd you do?"

To her relief, Nadir replied, "I helped him. I used every resource, every alliance, and every owed favor I had to take down that criminal enterprise. His employer was killed in the firefight, and Erik was free of that demon. I took Erik to my home. I got him off those pills. And then I told him to embrace his new life. I felt that I had done my job."

"That was probably the nicest thing that anyone had ever done for him," she said with a heavy heart.

"But I'm sure you can see the fatal flaw," Nadir murmured. "Why didn't Erik thrive?"

Christine thought about this and said, "He still had nothing. The bad was gone, but there was no good. No college degree or job. No friends except for you. No family. His face. His…social skills."

"Exactly. My career took off, and so I was overworked and exhausted. I thought Erik was resourceful enough to figure life out on his own. And he kind of did. Erik turned toward less violent activities, hacking and financial manipulations. He would visit me sometimes, and we would shoot the breeze. Occasionally, he still had a crime tip for me. His life wasn't exactly happy, but I thought everything would remain calm." A pause. "Then he lost his mind again. And I think you know why."

"Me."

"Yep. Erik had a terrible time handling feelings of…attraction. He didn't know what to do with them, and so he used the pills to numb himself. Then he killed someone. I couldn't overlook the murder of an innocent man. I was ready to arrest or kill him. SCI was a lifesaver."

"How did you know about SCI? Or that they would take Erik?"

"I had a friend who worked there," Nadir explained. "She knew Hope. Hope was interested in helping Erik." Christine saw a flicker of concern on Nadir's face when he mentioned Hope.

"Did you force him in?" she asked.

"No. Erik agreed to go on his own. He knew it was his last chance." Nadir shook his head in disgust. "The damned governor nearly ruined it all, nearly destroyed multiple lives, yours included. But we fixed it. We got very lucky," he finished. "And I am sorry you went through all that. I hope that you can return to your life knowing that everything is as it should be."

"He let me go," she said, finishing her tea and setting the empty cup on the table. It would take time for her to think about everything Nadir had said. But she knew - "I've forgiven him."

"You're a very brave and mature young woman," said Nadir with a gentle smile.

"I still care about him," she continued. "I want him to be happy. It all happened so fast at the end. I was never given proof that he was okay. And Hope - I've always had this strange feeling about her."

"Erik will be fine. He's in the best place that he could be. There's always an adjustment period, but he'll be fine."

"But you never see him, do you?" she pressed. "You never check on him. Do you get updates?"

"No. But I've previously seen him in that state. It's like a very deep sleep with a wonderful dream. And, Christine, Erik was ready to die." She flinched. "If Hope hadn't come to the rescue, Erik would have killed himself. I've done my best. We all have. Please, my dear girl. Go live your life. Erik is living his in the best way that he can."

Something else troubled her. "Does he have any say in what they do to him? Or is he tied down again?"

Nadir's eyes widened. "This is _not_ torture. It's done with Erik's best interest in mind."

"You're certain of that?" she asked with more sharpness than she meant to.

"Would you rather have him in prison? Or dead? Those were the other options, remember?"

"No. But…" Christine gazed downward. This was not going anywhere. She had the feeling that Nadir wasn't being completely honest with her. "I just really hope he's okay."

"I'm sure he will be."

She tried one last time, "There's no way to check on him?"

Nadir was having a hard time keeping eye contact. "No, Christine. But he will be fine."

She grimly understood that Nadir was done with Erik. Nadir had tried multiple times to save Erik, and he was tired now. He would not help her.

"Thank you for sharing all this with me," she said.

"You're very welcome. But Erik would have wanted you to move on. Despite his atrocious actions, he did care for you. He would have wanted you to be happy."

She knew that was true. But she wasn't sure that she could be happy until she had proof. A current photograph of him laughing with friends, skipping through green meadows, whatever Erik did there. It would hurt her heart to see it. Because then she _would_ have to let him go. But she would. As Erik had let her go. To be happy. After his horrible life, she would let him be happy.

She ate a little more dinner. Then Nadir showed her to the spare bedroom. It was also simply furnished with only a bed, nightstand, and unplugged television. Nadir probably didn't have a lot of guests. The white sheets were cold as she climbed into them. The thick blue and gold comforter was warm. Troubled, she lay there for a long time, listening to the wind and the soft rapping of bare branches against the cabin walls.

Was this really the end? This was as far as she would get? Her heart clenched. She knew of no one else who could help her or answer her questions.

Then she heard Nadir's voice in the distance, talking to someone, maybe over the phone.

She was now a very experienced eavesdropper.

Christine got up. The floor was freezing beneath her socks. She tiptoed to the door and put her ear up against it. She still couldn't hear him, so Christine quietly opened her door and stepped out into the short hallway. She made her way towards the living room. Nadir's voice was clearer - "I was hoping things would get better. This is not easy to do. It will involve law enforcement. Do you think he's close to death? Because that might be more peaceful." Another pause. "Well, have Alice consider that perspective. Yes, I understand that she – " Nadir sighed. "You explain to her what it will entail. If she still wants me to go forward, I will. But Erik will likely not make it." Christine covered her mouth with her hand. "I understand. I'm so sorry, Corey. I really am. Thank you. All right. Goodbye." After he hung up, Nadir quietly cursed.

Christine quickly walked back to her room and closed the door. She sunk down to her knees onto the floorboards. A sob escaped her throat. _Please no._ She felt panic, her heart pounding in her ears. Then she felt anger. She wanted to go out there and yell at Nadir. He had known things weren't going well for Erik. She had sensed it. How dare he lie to her? Why had he? To protect her? Because he thought that there was no hope for Erik? Her arms curled up against her chest.

She had to stay calm. She had to think.

 _Corey. Alice._ She remembered now. They were the friends that Erik had mentioned in SCI. But if Corey called Nadir, did that mean Corey was here in the real world? That was confusing. Nadir might become suspicious if she started asking questions about him, though.

She went to bed in tears. She got about three hours of troubled sleep. She awoke with a simple plan.

"Hi Nadir." She greeted him in the kitchen the next morning, fully dressed and showered.

"Good morning, Christine." She could see concern in his eyes. He tried to hide it with a smile and warm words. "Did you sleep well?"

"Yes," she lied.

"Good. I made some bacon and toast if you're hungry."

"Thanks." She took a breath. "Hey, could I use your phone? Mine isn't getting any reception here. I just need to make a quick call."

"Mine's not great either," he said. He didn't seem to suspect anything. "But you're welcome to try." He unlocked his phone and handed it to her.

"Thank you." Gripping the phone, she went back into her room. She searched Nadir's recent calls and was relieved to see that the information hadn't been erased. There was Corey's number at the top. She wrote it down and added the contact to her phone. Did he have anyone else in here? She scanned the other contacts.

 _Heh. He had Raoul. Oh! He had Hope. That was weird. He'd listed her as Hope I. V._

She saved that one, too, just in case it ever came in handy. She didn't dare call it now.

"Any luck?" Nadir asked when she returned to the kitchen.

"Not much," she replied. "It's no big deal." She munched on a piece of crunchy, salty bacon. Her stomach turned nervously. She prayed Nadir wouldn't suspect anything.

"If you'd like, I can take you into town later."

"Thank you," she said. "But I'll only stay here another day, if that's okay. I'd like to take a walk in the woods. It's pretty here."

"It's cold out there," he warned.

"I don't mind."

"Well, be careful. There are occasional black bears, too."

Nadir was so kind and caring that she couldn't hate him. She almost wanted to give him another chance to come clean with her, to confront him about the phone call with Corey. But even if Nadir agreed to help her, she doubted that he saw Erik's future consisting of anything but death or prison. Nadir could not be her ally. Their goals did not align.

Her phone did have a weak signal. After putting on a heavy coat and boots that Nadir had let her borrow, she headed outside. The boots were too big, and she nearly fell over in them. She walked a good distance from the cabin, not wanting Nadir to overhear her. Snow lingered on the ground, and it was cloudy out. She felt very alone.

 _Please work._

Christine closed her eyes as she pushed the button to make the call. Corey wouldn't recognize her number, so he might not answer. She prepared to leave a message but -

"Hello?" asked the voice of a younger man.

"Hi," she nearly whispered. "Is this Corey?"

"Yes. Can I help you?" He sounded nice enough, although a little suspicious, probably wondering if she were a telemarketer.

Here she went - "My name is Christine Daae. Yes, _that_ Christine Daae. And I…" She looked at the sky. "I don't know what's going on. I don't even know what to say. Except - let me help you. If Erik is in trouble, let me help you. Please."

There was such a long silence that Christine was afraid that they had been disconnected. Finally, Corey uttered - "Holy crap."


	37. Chapter 37

A slightly shorter dialog-heavy chapter. But I hope you still enjoy it, as you see where we are heading. I am optimistic that we'll get to an interesting point in Chapter 38 ;)

Thank you all for your lovely reviews. I'm happy that everyone is enjoying the direction of the story.

 **Read and Review!**

"Please don't hang up."

"I have no plans to," said Corey. "I was not expecting…this. Please give me a moment to think." A pause. "Where are you? How did you get my number?"

"I'm with Nadir in Colorado. It's a long story. Nadir doesn't want to tell me what's happening. He thinks he's protecting me. But I overhead your conversation with him and found your number on his phone. He doesn't know about this call." Trying to explain everything to a perfect stranger would take forever. She went back to the most important part. "Is Erik okay?"

"He's…not," Corey admitted. "He's not well."

It was not good news. But it was truth at least. "Can I see him?" she asked. "Do you know where he is?"

"Not the real him," Corey slowly replied to her dismay. "But…"

"But what?"

"But I know how to see the _other_ him."

At that point, it dawned on her that, whatever she was getting into, it was not going to be easy. _Let's start with the basics._ "Do you live in SCI?" she asked.

"I work in SCI. So I'm in there a lot. I'm not a patient."

 _Oh, that made sense._ Christine crept into very unfamiliar territory. "Is it possible for me to see the…other him?"

"I don't know. Um." Corey took a breath. "Why are you, um – _Why?_ "

 _Oh no._ This time, she was forced to care what someone else thought of her. Erik's life depended on it. "I know what you're thinking," she said. "Christine must be crazy. Maybe I am. But I still know I want to help. And I'll tell you everything if you let me. I'll explain whatever you want."

"It's just that, given who you are, I almost wondered if…if you might be trying to put him in prison. Does that make sense?" He quickly added, "Not that I would blame you. This situation is as complicated as -"

"All I want to do is help him," she interrupted. "I don't know what I can do to make you believe me. All the times I've sang his song? You can look that up online. Um. I kept his letter to me. I'll send you proof. I never filed any charges against anyone. I -"

"All right," said Corey. "I'll take your word for it for now. I don't really have a choice. How long will it take you to get back here?"

It was such a wonderful question. "A couple of days. I'll get a bus ticket as soon as I can."

"How about I buy you a flight ticket?"

She blinked. "That's so nice of you."

"It's more desperate than nice."

She feared what he meant. "Please don't let his life end, Corey. Don't let Nadir do anything. Give me a chance to help."

"I won't," he said. "No one is doing anything yet. Alice thinks…Well, hey, let's get you back here and then I'll explain. And you can explain. Sound fun?"

"Lots of fun," she wryly murmured.

He looked up flights for her. Amazingly, she got a direct one out of Denver the next morning. She'd have to wake up at the crack of dawn to make it. "I'll meet you at the airport and monitor your flight for delays," Corey said. "Are you okay with that?"

"Yes." She suddenly felt a little nervous. But she was in too far to back out now. He was her only hope.

"Call if you have problems."

"Thank you, thank you."

"Take care. I'll see you soon."

When she hung up, Christine felt momentarily paralyzed, shocked that it had actually worked. Relieved. Sad about Erik. A little afraid because – where was this all going? She stayed outside for a while, sensing this might be her last moment of pure calm. There were little tracks in the snow. Maybe a rabbit? She followed them until they vanished near the base of a tree. She sat on a fallen log and stared at the distant mountains. She had no plan, but maybe Corey would. He seemed smart. An SCI employee? What did that even entail?

When she finally went back inside, she told Nadir, "I've leaving early tomorrow morning."

"You were welcome to stay a little longer," he said. "I didn't mind at all. It's good to have some company."

"Like you said, it's time to move on," she replied and couldn't stop a note of disappointment from reaching her voice. "Erik has a great life now, so I should go live my life. Right?" _Come on, Nadir. Give him one more chance._

"Exactly," he replied, glancing down.

Giving up, Christine tried to think if there were any last non-suspicious questions she had, anything that might help her. She had one - "Out of curiosity, why did Hope want Erik?"

Without looking up, he replied, "She was scientifically curious, I think. And wanted to do some good."

 _I think you might be lying. And that's scary. Because what other motivation could Hope have?_

Again, Christine didn't sleep well. But at least the sunrise brought new possibilities.

* * *

Corey had hesitated before answering the phone.

He was getting ready to go back into work. The number wasn't familiar, but it was local. He had a dental appointment coming up and wondered if it could be a reminder. Also, his grandfather wasn't doing well, so he watched for calls from the hospital.

So he had answered and received the surprise of his life.

He had reservations. She was a mystery. He didn't know what she was thinking or, at first at least, how she could even help. All he knew was that the Erik situation seemed hopeless. Alice was hopeless. Nadir was hopeless. And so that weird phone call represented the faintest glimmer of hope.

He called in sick to his job the next day and drove to the airport to pick her up. Her flight was on time, and the weather was cold but sunny. He waited at the curb for about ten minutes, hoping no one yelled at him to move. She finally came out with her luggage in tow, looking a little frazzled, jeans and turquoise sweater wrinkled. She brushed her hair out of her face and glanced back and forth.

After months of hearing about her from others, glimpsing her on the news, it was strange to finally see Christine Daae in real life. She was cute - pretty, although in a subtler way. Her eyes looked older than the rest of her. Corey rolled down his window and waved.

She gave him a relieved smile and waved back. She hurried over and opened his backdoor.

"Do you need help?" he asked.

"No, I've got it, thanks." She quickly stuffed her belongings into his backseat, then climbed into the passenger's seat. She was out of breath. Christine turned to look at him, and they stared at each other in perhaps mutual disbelief.

"Well, hello, Christine." He held out his hand. "It's nice to finally meet you."

"It's nice to meet you, too!" She shook his hand. "Thank you again."

"I've heard a lot about you." He shifted into drive and pulled away from the airport.

"Yeah, I'm sure. I'm glad to finally be out of the news," she replied. "Um. Erik mentioned you once. He said you all were nice to him in SCI. So thank you for that."

"My friend, Alice, has tried to help. But we're stuck." He glanced at her from the corner of his eye, trying to read her a little bit. She didn't seem deceptive. "So I'm going to take us to a local coffee shop. You don't know me, so I figured you'd be comfortable there. Is that good?"

"That's great," she said, eagerly.

They discussed a few mundane topics like her flight, which had been half-empty, and the weather. She told him about Nadir's cabin and how she almost wanted to hide away there for a week. About ten minutes later, they were settled down in a booth with cups of coffee. She also bought a blueberry muffin. Corey wasn't hungry.

As she began to spread a square of butter on her muffin, she said, "I want you to tell me everything. No matter how bad. Don't hide anything." After a pause, she added, "Nadir told me more about Erik's life. After that story, I'm not sure anything could shock me."

As Christine ate her muffin, Corey did as she asked. He told her about Erik's gradual deterioration, from playing video games and barely talking to basically becoming a vegetable. Her face scrunched up with distress, but she stayed calm, nodding her understanding. He told her about Ben. She was completely confused and horrified.

"Yeah, it was a mess," said Corey. "We have no idea what that was about."

"Do you know Hope?" Christine suddenly asked.

"I've had some interaction with her at work. I don't know her well, though."

"In Nadir's phone, she was listed as Hope "I" dot "V" dot. Like the "I" and the "V" were initials."

"That is weird," said Corey. "No, I don't know anything."

"I kept her number," said Christine. "Just in case."

Corey then gently revealed what Alice suspected, regarding Erik trying to end his own life. That was the hardest part. Christine closed her eyes and ran her hands over her face. "Oh," she moaned. She released a shuddery breath. "He wants out," she said, staring at him through her fingers. "He doesn't want to be there!"

"Yes," said Corey. "That's what Alice thinks. That's why I called Nadir."

"I never should have let them put him in there. But I thought he'd be happy. But I should have checked! I should have made sure. _God._ " Corey didn't know what to say to that. Christine's shoulders slumped. "It can't end like that, with Nadir killing him. Or Erik dying in some cold medical lab. _No._ " She sat up straight, hands dropping to the table with a loud thud. "We have to think of a plan. Maybe-"

"Woah," said Corey. "Wait. I told you everything. Now it's your turn."

"Oh." She looked down.

Truthfully, he didn't even want to have this conversation. "Look, I am not great with this kind of thing. I like analytics and programming. Not talking about, uh, domestic personal relationship situations? I don't even know." He shook his head. "You don't have to tell me any details that could be uncomfortable for you." _And me._

"It's all right," she said. "I prepared for this conversation. I thought I might get out of it. But no such luck?"

"I don't need every fact. Just an explanation. Because I have this plan in my head, and it's probably going to be out of your comfort zone. Before I go there, I want to make sure that you…" He didn't want to offend her.

"That I'm not damaged?" she asked, looking him the eye. "Well, Corey, there's nothing that I can say to make you totally okay with this. I thought about it during my flight. But I still have to tell you something. You are the gatekeeper right now."

"I'm the gatekeeper? That's the coolest thing I've ever been called. Do I get a sword?" He desperately tried to lighten the mood. She probably thought he was the biggest nerd on the planet.

"If you want one," she replied with half an uncomfortable smile. She brushed all her hair to one side, sending a blonde stream down her right shoulder. "I'm not going to lie to you. You haven't lied to me, and I really appreciate that. So I'll tell you the truth and hope for the best."

"Sounds good," said Corey. He braced himself.

"He… _Erik_ did kidnap me," she began with some effort. "And that was really bad. He also threatened Raoul's life, and that was also horrible. So that part of the stories are all true, and everybody is right to be upset. But here is what people don't know. You know what I did with him during that time?"

 _Oh, God._ "No…"

"First, I panicked, obviously. I planned my escape. I nearly hit him with a vase; that didn't go so well. But then - I ate a bunch of food that he cooked. He wouldn't stop cooking. I'm surprised that I didn't gain fifty pounds." She looked off to the side with an expression that hovered between a smirk and a grimace. "Anyway, I read a lot of books. He played the piano, and I sang. Or he sang. So many hours were spent immersed in music. Music made things easier, especially during the harder times. Then we went on walks. We went on drives. We talked. That was literally it. He did not touch me." She sighed. "I've heard the rumors, the horror stories. And I was not kept in a cage or a hole. I was not tied up."

"All right," said Corey, slowly taking it in. "So it wasn't like…"

"Like _Silence of the Lambs_? No."

"All right."

"You believe me?"

"Yes." She had kept eye contact. She spoke calmly. He had no reason not to believe her, no evidence that said otherwise. "I believe you."

"Raoul appeared one day to rescue me, and that's when things got very bad. That was when I thought Erik was…maybe beyond all hope. Of course, he was angry with me for trying to run. He was also furious with the government for having that meeting about him, for calling him a monster, saying that he didn't deserve to go into SCI. He was ready to destroy everything. I argued with him for a long time, trying to coax out some piece of humanity."

"He was that angry about being taken out of SCI?" asked Corey. "Interesting."

"I think it was more the principle of it. That they wanted to imprison him instead of give him that second chance." She shrugged. "He was just – _angry_ at the whole world. Beyond the point of all reason."

"Were you hurt?"

"No. Just terrified. He finally calmed toward me. He said I could go with Raoul and that it was off my conscience, that he was the monster. I think he was going to kill himself along with the government officials. I think he saw them as everyone who had ever denied him a normal life, who saw him as unworthy of one. He saw them…as the people who wanted to hurt him." She paused and seemed to be thinking about something unpleasant.

"What happened?" he finally asked.

Her thumb and finger played with the edge of the light blue muffin cup. "I said I'd marry him." Corey blanched. "I didn't know if it'd work, but it did. Erik only wanted a piece of something normal, a companion, someone to…hold hands with."

"So you married him?" He reflexively glanced at her fingers, but, of course, nothing was there.

"No. That's when everything changed. He immediately tried to fix what he'd done. He took me on a date to the movies. That was pretty awkward, but he tried so hard. He bought a volleyball."

Corey's eyes widened as he was finally able to connect to something. "He played with us. He remembered…"

She nodded. "He was trying to make everything normal, to make me happy. And then he helped create that performance. Where he projected me singing onto buildings?"

"I saw that online," said Corey. "It was cool."

"It was his wedding gift." Her voice grew strained as though she were fighting back tears. "He thought it would fix everything. But, of course, too much damage had been done. And I couldn't forgive him yet."

"Of course you couldn't. All that is pretty messed up." He was going to add harsher words for Erik, but the look on her face told him not to.

"And then…"

"You don't have to say any more if you don't want to," he said. "I've heard enough."

"But it's important. I kissed him. I held him. And then, the next day, the next morning, he let me go. He gave me a note that scared me because it…it didn't sound like he wanted to live anymore. So I told Nadir and Hope where he was. I thought that would be best for everyone. But it wasn't, obviously. It wasn't good for anyone." She folded her arms. "And that's the end."

"I see." A heaviness settled in Corey's chest.

"Telling the story to you like this, maybe you still don't understand why," she continued. "It's hard to put everything into words. For example, the music. The musical connection. I tagged along with a punk band, _completely_ out of place, trying to find that connection. It didn't come close to being the same thing. But I'm not here for me." She shook her head and looked upwards. "Well, maybe I partly am. But - I want him to be happy, not suffering, not dying in a medical lab, not stuck in some virtual prison, trying to kill hims-" Her voice cracked. A tear ran down her cheek. "He deserves better than that."

There was a moment of silence as Christine recovered and Corey quietly digested the information. It was not quite what he had expected, still disturbing, but - "You know, I wasn't a fan of his after he first escaped." Her shoulders stiffened, but she didn't interrupt. "Alice, Raoul, Nadir - everyone was freaking out over you and him. And I figured that someone who was causing that much trouble…well, what was the point? But Alice thinks there's good in him. Alice doesn't want him to suffer either, and I've been able to see things a little more from her point of view." Corey chuckled, removed his glasses, and rubbed his eyes. "I can't wait to see her reaction."

"To what?" Christine asked.

"To you."

She blinked. "So you are going to let me help?"

"Yes," he replied.

He was probably always going to let her help unless she'd seemed completely maladjusted. Which she most definitely didn't. She seemed incredibly sweet, a touch too nice for her own good, but still intelligent, and Corey felt bad for her. She was asking for the same thing that Alice wanted, and to a lesser extent – he wanted. An end to the craziness. Besides, what was happening with Erik might fit the definition of cruel and unusual. Definitely unusual.

There would come a day when other decisions would have to be made. Harder ones. But, for right now, Christine wouldn't be in danger. This would be a team effort.

 _And what if she were the only one who could help?_

Her eyes filled with new tears. "Thank you."

* * *

She felt emotionally drained after that conversation, telling a stranger all those personal details. Yet it had been worth it. Corey was going to let her help. And while she could tell that some parts of her story had made him very uncomfortable, he had never overreacted or judged her. Of course, she had kept some details hidden from him. The depth of her feelings, for one.

He moved on, and she was grateful for that. "So I was trying to contact Nadir because I thought he'd have good connections. Maybe he could track Erik down, break through the doors, and charge into the facility? I mean, I'm not going in there with a gun. Are you?" She quickly shook her head. "So I figured that ex-law enforcement might be our best bet."

"That sounds dangerous for Erik," she replied.

"Yeah. It wasn't going to be good. But how do we find him? I could investigate around SCI, see if I come up with anything. That could take a while. But – what if Erik had information? Regarding his location? Regarding the layout of the facility? That would help, but he won't or can't talk to us, especially not about his previous life."

"Right." She didn't feel like much help at that point. SCI was like a foreign country.

Corey hesitated. "And there's another reason we need to quickly pull him out of this stupor."

"What's that?" His tone made her nervous.

"I think he is losing the will to live. Alice does, too. I'm not sure how much longer he has. If there's anyone in the world who Erik might respond to, that person is you. One time, I called out your name, and I could tell that he reacted to it."

Christine felt her heart clench. "I'll do anything. But - how?"

"That was the million dollar question. It takes months to program people's characters. Now most of the patients in SCI are severely disabled, so a lot of time is devoted to minimizing pain or giving feeling to missing limbs – that kind of thing. Yours obviously wouldn't take quite as long, but we're still looking at a month. I don't know if we have a month." Corey's eyes lit up. "Then I thought of Daniel, a former coworker, and how he hijacked an artificial intelligence unit. Long story. Other employees do it in unusual situations when they need to hop in quickly and don't plan on staying long. It's a little frowned upon. But not banned."

"Hijack a what?" she asked. At least Corey seemed to be having more fun now. She was lost.

Corey leaned in to explain, "In SCI, certain community roles are held by computer programs. Like cashiers. They aren't real people. They're more like robots. With the help of a coworker, I might be able to get your mind connected to one of them. Your view of the System won't be as vivid as everyone else's. Your senses will be a little dulled. But you _will_ be in. You will be able to see him and interact with him. And he can see you. Or the digital version of you." Corey was speaking quickly, and that made her all the more tense. Like time was short. Like they needed to take action.

She tried to understand. "So…so I would control one of the fake people in SCI?"

"Yes!"

"Um." She tried to think of any issues. "How different would I look? Will that be confusing to him?"

"If I can get a photo of you, we can change the appearance of the character to make it reasonably close."

She touched her neck. "My voice?"

"Nearly the same. We can record a sample of your voice and override what was programmed for the A.I." She hesitated. "This isn't going to be perfect. But it's the fastest and easiest way to get you in."

She nodded but barely knew what she was agreeing to. Except – "Will this hurt?"

"Not at all. At worst, you might feel a little claustrophobic, maybe temporarily dizzy."

"Okay." She swallowed. "Okay, let's do that. Let's hijack the…the robot person."

Corey looked amused but continued, "We'll be doing this at night and keeping a very low profile. There's the risk of you getting into trouble for trespassing if the wrong person catches us. Of course, I'll say it was my idea."

"But you'll lose your job," said Christine with wide eyes. "Corey…"

"I'm less upset about that than you'd think. I used to love my job. I believed in SCI's mission. Things have changed, and there is a lot going on that I don't agree with." He shrugged. "And, not to brag, but I have marketable skills and a degree from MIT. I could get a new job." He tilted his head. "The main downside is I'd lose my friends in there. That would suck."

Christine said, "Let's do everything we can to not get caught."

"I plan to."

"If all this works, though, how are we going to get into wherever Erik is?"

"That's the part I haven't figured out yet. We have another possible ally. Gabby Giry. Before Erik was moved, she saw to all his medical needs. If we got to Erik, she could help us. She also knows Hope. And I know Daniel, who I think is working with Hope right now. He's the one who plays around with Erik's brain." Christine winced and frowned. "Sorry. I could have worded that better. But maybe there's a way to trick them into letting me or Gabby in. We'll have to think about it."

Christine nodded, feeling both overwhelmed and impatient.

Corey stared at her across the table and smiled slightly. "Are you sure you're ready for this? It's going to get a little weird."

The plan was slowly registering. She would be inside SCI. She would see _him_ again. Or at least a version of him. Good God. That _was_ going to be weird. It would take time for it to even feel real. But time was short. And there was only one answer, even if it wasn't entirely true - "I'm ready."


	38. Chapter 38

All right. Here we are. Thank you all for your lovely reviews. Let's see where Christine's new adventure takes her.

 **Read and Review!**

It was strange being back at her apartment after her adventure and that conversation. Back to the quiet and dust-covered shelves and tables. Back to being alone and not in two-star motels or a crowded van, awaiting her next performance. Tom had cut her a fairly generous check that kept the rent paid and the utilities on for a couple of months. He only texted her once: "Everything go okay?"

He was probably making sure she'd arrived at Nadir's safely. She texted back: "I think so."

Her job was still waiting for her, but she wasn't sure if now was a good time to go back. Corey had said that she would need to use the daytime to sleep soon. "Like a vampire," he teasingly explained. Over the next couple of days, Christine stocked up on essentials like toilet paper and detergent, along with cheaper frozen meals. She watched a couple of movies that had been in the theater during all the chaos. She wrung her hands throughout the long hours, trying to stay calm.

Meanwhile, Corey was quickly working on getting her into the System. She was worried that he would contact her and say that it wasn't possible, that something had gone wrong. He did text her: "Sorry if this is weird, but could I have your height and weight?"

She laughed and gave it to him with: "I hope you give me some awesome clothes to wear in there."

He replied: "No, everyone walks around in burlap sacks."

She assumed he was kidding. Still, she would have worn a sack if it meant getting in.

She did stop by the theater once to say 'hello' and see how things were progressing. They asked when she was coming back, and Christine committed to working two part-time days. She felt more comfortable in the partially renovated building, easily completing some filing and scheduling. During a break, she stepped past the place where the stairs had led to the basement. The area was now blocked off with a white wall. It no longer seemed as haunting.

 _Because I'm going to see him again._ She still couldn't believe it.

Corey asked for a photograph. She took a picture of her full body in the mirror and sent it to him. He e-mailed her a link to record her voice. Christine grabbed "Little Women" off the shelf and read from it for about ten minutes. She hadn't even realized she'd been reading the part about Beth's death until Corey replied, "Well, that was depressing."

Two days later, he asked if he could stop by her house. "Of course," she said.

He appeared around seven in the evening holding a brown grocery bag.

"What's in there?" she asked, letting him in. "I hope it's nothing scary."

"Yes, you have to eat a fresh cow heart before you go in. It's part of the ritual." She scowled. He laughed and explained, "I'm taking you in at night. There aren't going to be a ton of people around, but some of the employees will still recognize you. Now, it's not like no one is allowed inside. Schools and businesses even give tours. It's just that you're you. Rumors will spread."

"Okay. So what's the plan?"

Corey opened the bag and dumped it on the sofa. A white blouse, grey pencil skirt, brunette wig, pair of glasses, stockings, and red lipstick fell out. "I hope you have some high heels to go with it. I forgot those."

"A disguise?" She shrugged. "Fine with me."

"You'll look more like an employee," he explained. "Only one other guy knows about you."

"And he won't tell?"

"No. He's pretty laid-back and won't care. Plus, one time he brought his girlfriend in, and they played in the System together. And I didn't tell on him. So he owes me."

"Okay." Her stomach turned nervously.

Corey took a seat. "Here's more of the plan. I'm going to put you in the System, see how you do, and then take you out after two hours. If you're feeling okay, you'll go in for another four hours. If not, we'll make adjustments. After six hours total, we'll see how you've done."

"How I've done?"

"Whether Erik is awake. If he's provided information."

"What if he hasn't?" she asked, worried that six hours wouldn't be nearly enough.

"Then you'll come back the next night, do four hours, take a break, do another four hours."

She paused. "How does everyone else stay in for such a long time?"

"They're attached to medical devices. Feeding tubes. Catheters. I don't think you want to go there, do you?"

"No…"

"I didn't think so." He must have seen the concern on her face because he added, "Remember, Christine. People are there because they want to be. They paid to be. They begged to be. Erik is the exception."

"Right." She believed him. She had seen a news special, too. There was a patient who was severely burned from head to toe. In agony. Missing all limbs. Of course they would want to go there.

And what about Erik? He was disfigured, but he was not hurt or disabled in any way. In fact, he moved better than anyone she had ever seen. He was in there because – "Does SCI work for…issues with the mind?"

"They had begun experimenting with that," Corey replied. "It seems to help with PTSD in patients who have severe physical injuries. But Erik's case has brought up questions. For example, is wiping memories ethical? Or changing an entire personality? Maybe there are certain severe cases of mental illness where it might work, but, so far…" Corey shrugged. "I can't say I'm for it."

She nodded. "Especially if the person wants out."

"Right. Consent is key." A moment of silence passed, and then Corey asked, "Are you still ready?"

"Definitely."

"All right. I'm picking you up tomorrow evening at 6 PM."

Her heart beat a little faster. "Okay."

"Don't drink too many fluids right beforehand, especially not coffee or anything with a high caffeine content. But eat something. And try to get at least six hours of sleep during the day. Are you on any medications?"

"No." She quickly tried to memorize everything he was telling her.

"All right, then no worries there." Corey stood. "Well, I'll see you tomorrow. Text me if you have questions. I hope the clothes fit."

"Thanks again, Corey." She led him to the door. "Have a good night."

She stayed home all of the next day, trying to rest. She was supposed to be sleeping, but that was hard, even after she closed all the blinds and shut off the television. She was too nervous to sleep. Christine ate a small turkey sandwich with a glass of lemonade in the middle of the afternoon. A little after five, she began to change into her disguise. She put on the business skirt, which was maybe a size too big, and the blouse, which fit. She put on the wig and the fake glasses, adjusting them both in the mirror. She added some bright red lipstick and found a pair of old black high heels. When she was finished, she smiled at herself. That was quite the change.

Corey laughed when he arrived. "There we go," he said. "You look like you're going to yell at me for being late to work."

"Uh. Thanks?"

"Oh, I almost forgot," he continued. "Bring a pair of comfortable shorts and maybe a tank top. When you get hooked up, the wires have to be attached to bare skin. So…"

She ran to her closet and grabbed some pajama shorts with penguins and a black spaghetti strap shirt.

"Ready?" Corey asked when she returned.

"Let's do it," she said. Her stomached rumbled as they left. She hadn't eaten much that day. It was nearing sunset, adding to the strangeness of the moment. As they drove through the city, exchanging few words, the streetlights cast them in shadows. Christine wondered if he was scared, too. She eventually asked, "Has Erik improved?"

"Don't know. I haven't been in there since we talked."

Christine started. "So Alice doesn't know I'm coming?"

"No. I wanted to make sure this plan would actually work." Corey nervously laughed. "I'm not sure how she'll feel about this initially."

"Why?"

"Oh, you know…" Corey seemed uncomfortable. "She'll be fine once she gets used to the idea. If anyone is on your side, Alice is."

"Okay." She pushed it from her mind, figuring that she had enough to worry about.

Christine tried to relax as Corey drove. Traffic thinned as they left the city behind. He eventually turned off the highway, and they were winding through empty fields. _Spooky._ Suddenly, she saw a silver building in the distance, maybe about twenty stories high. She saw a couple lights in the windows and outside the structure, around parking lots. Then they reached a chain link fence. She was a little afraid when Corey drove up to the security post. Corey held up a white badge with his picture, and the guard waved him through without a second glance. Corey parked close, and she quickly followed him into the building. They passed a couple of people who appeared to be heading home. No one looked at her. It was great, like wearing a mask of her own.

Corey didn't give her much time to appreciate the modern beauty of the building, the high ceilings and the skylights. She took an elevator with him to the third floor. Christine walked out and saw rows of rooms. None of the white doors had windows, so she couldn't see inside. He led her down a long hallway. Her high heels clicked loudly against the tiles. He finally entered an open room that contained about a dozen computers with large black towers and lots of wires. One guy was in there. He looked about thirty and had bleached blonde hair and a matching goatee. "Hey, Zach," said Corey with a wave. He was trying to sound relaxed, but Christine noticed a tremble in his voice.

"Hey, Dude." Zach seemed calm.

Corey gestured at her. "Zach, this is Christine."

Zach glanced at her. "I thought she was blonde!" Now Zach looked panicked. "And she needs glasses? What the hell? I didn't include improved vision."

"No, no," said Corey, rolling his eyes. "She's in disguise. She is blonde, and she doesn't need glasses."

"Oh yeah." Zach glanced at her again. "You were in the news for something. Or wait. Were you on that reality show where you're in the woods with a bunch of people?"

"Oh my God," said Christine, putting a hand against her forehead.

Corey smirked. "See? Zach here doesn't give a damn about anything."

"Oh. I learned about that recently," she said, nodding. "About how to not give a…damn."

Zach and Corey stared and then laughed. "All right. Let's see what we got," said Corey.

"Okay," said Zach. For someone who didn't give a damn, he seemed to be good at his job. "Here's what she looks like right now." Zach pulled up a picture and glanced at her. "Could you remove the glasses and wig?" She did so. "Spin around." She obeyed. "What do you think?" he asked Corey.

Corey studied the image. She came over to look, too. "There's something different about my face," she said.

"I agree," Corey stated. "Let's, uh, let's go narrower on the forehead. A little higher on the cheekbones." Zach made the adjustments. "That's better." They continued to play with her image, making changes of less than a millimeter to her form and face. After a while, she began to look like herself.

Corey said, "Let's check the voice."

Zach replied, "So here's what she sounded like before."

He pushed play. The image smiled and said, "Hey! I'm Debbie. Can I take your order?"

Zach said, "Now she sounds like this." He made a different selection and pressed play.

The image waved and said - "Hi! I'm Christine. Let's do something fun!"

Christine giggled. "I sound like a talking Barbie Doll."

"Well," grumbled Zach. "That part didn't need to be rocket science."

"It is my voice, though," she said. "Can she…can I sing?"

"Oh yeah," Zach replied. "You can do anything that you normally could. Sing. Scream. Burp."

"This looks good," said Corey. "Thanks. How long will it take to do the upload and get her in?"

"About forty minutes," he replied. "I'd start getting her ready in twenty minutes."

"Cool," said Corey.

Christine was so nervous that her hands were shaking. She felt as though she were waiting for a scary medical appointment.

Corey turned to her. "Let's go on up. I want to get you used to everything. It can be a little intimidating at first."

He led her down the hall and to the elevator. They went to the sixth floor. It was completely dark and also a little colder. They walked a short ways down the hall, before going into another room. Corey locked the door behind them. He switched on a light.

"So there you are," he said, motioning forward.

Her heart jumped as her eyes fell upon the device. Goggles. A black helmet. A chair that leaned backwards. Lots of wires and cords. Strange machines that looked like computers without monitors.

"Nothing hurts," Corey explained, probably reading her expression. "I know it looks weird. But it'll simply be the most intense virtual reality experience you've ever had. I've done it hundreds of times and never had a problem."

"Okay. I'm good." She took several deep breaths.

Corey left her alone so that she could change. She was even colder in the shorts and skimpy shirt. She also felt a little barer than she wanted to and hugged her arms up against her chest. Corey knocked, and she told him that he could come back in. "You sure you're okay?" he asked. "I should tell you that you can stop this at any time."

"No," she replied. "I want to do it. It'll just take me a moment to get used to the whole thing."

"Sure. Take your time."

She walked over to the chair and slowly leaned back. It was liking being in a dentist chair that was too tilted. Corey came over and said, "I'm going to start putting these on you, okay? Let me know if anything is uncomfortable. You shouldn't feel much." He began to stick the wires to her arms and legs. It tickled a little. She tried not to squirm. Next, he turned on some of the nearby machines. They hummed and beeped. Corey continued, "So you're going to wake up in a park. Away from everyone. That'll give you a little time to adjust to your body. I'll be speaking to you and monitoring you from here. Once you seem okay, I'll meet you in there."

She nodded. "And then what?"

"When you're ready, we'll go to Erik's apartment. Alice should be there."

"Erik's apartment," she repeated. "Oh my." She took a shaky breath and closed her eyes. _Erik's_ apartment.

Corey waited for Zach's call. When his phone rang about ten minutes later, they had a brief conversation that she barely understood. He hung up and came back over to her. "Here we go," he said. Corey put the helmet down over her head. It softly brushed against her hair but wasn't tight. Then he put the goggles on, and she couldn't see anything. Her head was entrapped. "You still okay?" he asked.

"Yes."

But - Erik had really let them do this to him? It did feel intrusive, and she was only getting a small taste of the procedure. Plus, she was doing this entirely of her own free will.

Corey messed with things for a long time. She could hear him walking around. Then Zach came in, and they adjusted other things. _Beep, beep._ She heard references to syncing, brain scans, and electrical impulses. _Beep, beep, beep. Click._ Then Zach left.

It was scary, but she never felt so alarmed that she wanted to back out. She trusted Corey. She knew this was right.

"Are you ready?" he asked.

"Yes," she whispered.

There was a loud beep. "I'm going to count down from five," he said. "I want you to close your eyes and relax. Then open your eyes. But stay relaxed."

"Okay."

A pause. Another beep. "Five, four."

She did as he asked. She closed her eyes.

"Three, two."

She inhaled.

"One. Breathe."

She opened her eyes. She thought she saw light and green. And empty space.

Then she freaked out a little. She flinched and squirmed. And she was back in the goggles and chair.

"You have to relax," said Corey, his voice still near. "You have to, or you'll jump out. Relax like right before you go to sleep. Take deep breaths. It's okay. This is the safest thing you've ever done. We'll only do two hours. Less if you're uncomfortable."

She nodded and closed her eyes. She had to calm down. This was for Erik.

"Again. Five, four, three, two, one. Breathe…"

She opened her eyes, and everything was blurry. She made herself stay calm. Then it all hit her at once. Sights and sounds and feelings.

Green. Grass. Sky. Evening sky. Moon. Cicada noises. Cool wind on her cheeks. "Oh…"

She was kneeling on the grass, wearing a pair of jeans and a pink v-neck shirt. Blinking upwards at the early night sky.

"It's beautiful," she murmured in a voice that was not quite her own.

"Thanks. I helped perfect it," said Corey into her ear. His voice sounded a little distant now.

Unsteadily, she rose to a standing position. Her hand reached out as though to grab the air. Christine turned around. In the distance, she could see a street and smaller buildings. Someone was walking. A person. Another human being.

Corey continued, "Okay. I want you to try to walk. Slowly." She began to do so. "No, you don't need to make exaggerated movements. It should feel very natural." She tried to follow his advice and took several steps. It felt a little weird at first, but then it was nearly the same as always. "Very good. Now jump." She did so. She almost fell over when she landed but caught herself. She laughed. "All right. Good. Twirl around. Run."

She spun in a circle and then dashed forward toward the lake, feeling the cool breeze on her cheeks. Leaning down, she dipped her hand into the water. Cold and wet. Yet, as Corey had predicted, her senses were a little dulled. The water didn't feel quite as it should. Still, this virtual reality was closer to reality than any other she had experienced.

Christine studied her reflection in the water. Slightly off but so very close.

"You're doing well," said Corey. "I'm coming in now, so you won't hear me. I'll be there in ten minutes. Just hang out. Try not to let anyone get a good look at you, in case they recognize you."

She made sure to stay away from the street while she waited for him, exploring the area around the lake and the park. She saw pink flowers and two white ducks. She could smell freshly cut grass. It was all so close to real. But not quite there. Like the greatest artist in all of history had painted a perfect picture of the world. But it was still a picture.

Someone suddenly appeared and approached her. She stayed at a distance until she could see that it was Corey. "Hey! You look a little different," she said.

"So do you," he replied.

"This place is so strange," she murmured, gazing out toward the lake. "It is almost real. I see how people can live here forever."

Corey smiled slightly. "I always forget what this place looks like to newcomers. We can explore a little bit. I can show you the town. Or - I can take you straight there."

"Let's go straight there," she said, immediately. Despite the wonder of the System, she was not there to play around.

He led her away from the park, but they remained at a slight distance from the street as they walked. She noticed restaurants. "People eat here?" she asked.

"Yes. But not because they need the nutrition. I mean, it's not even real nutrition. The taste and sensation of food makes life more fun."

"I'd miss food," she agreed. She stared at the movie theater and wondered if they could see current films. "Are there any important things I should know about?" she asked, not wanting to overwhelm him with every question in her head.

"We've talked about the big one. Like with Ben." He stopped walking and faced her. "People can't hurt each other. You can't be hurt here. You can't die. If a person's real body dies, they disappear from the System."

"Right. That's good."

"Like I said, this is the safest thing you'll ever do." She followed him down the sidewalk, still staring from side to side, lost concerning where they were heading. She had no geographical orientation for this place. "Here we are."

She looked up in surprise and blinked. "Erik's apartment?" Corey nodded. The brick building was dull and ordinary, and there were dozens like it all around them.

Stepping in front of her, Corey knocked at the door. A dark-haired girl, probably several years older than her, immediately answered. She looked at Corey and asked, "Where the heck have you been? I was expecting you back days ago!"

"I'll get to that in a second," Corey replied. "How's Erik?"

"The same," Alice said with a defeated shrug. "I had to go to work and leave him here for about five hours. I don't think he moved all day. Did you talk to Nadir?"

"Yeah," said Corey. "And the news wasn't good. Law enforcement would be heavily involved. Erik wouldn't make it."

"It's terrible," Alice replied. "But Corey, we talked about this. What is the other choice?"

"I'm glad you asked." Corey grinned awkwardly as though he knew he were about to get in trouble. He gestured for Christine to step forward.

"Hi," Christine said, waving – also awkwardly. "I'm Christine."

As Christine stood there frozen, still adjusting to her body and her surroundings, Alice stared at her face for several seconds. "Oh my _God_ ," whispered Alice. Her eyes nearly doubled in size.

"It's nice to meet you?"

"It's…nice…nice to meet you, too," Alice murmured as though in a daze.

"Can we come in?" asked Corey.

Still staring at Christine, Alice stepped back and let them inside. After closing the door and locking it, Alice said to her, in a strained but nice voice, "I'm sorry. Please give us just a moment." She dragged Corey into the kitchen by his wrist. They spoke in hushed voices. Christine sighed and looked around the living room. She didn't see anyone else. A television. Couches. Video game consoles.

Was this really Erik's apartment? Maybe someone had made a mist—

 _Piano._

She slowly walked toward it. Her hand brushed against the keys. She frowned. It was covered in dust, obviously not played for a long time.

Feeling as though she were strolling through a dream, she continued forward. The living room didn't have anything else to look at. Alice and Corey were still talking in the kitchen. Alice said something about 'traumatization' and 'victim.' Corey said something about 'last chance' and 'well-adjusted.'

Christine walked.

Down the little hall.

 _Bedroom._

The white door was open just a crack.

She walked toward it. One of her hands reached out and pushed the door open all the way. The room was dark, so she found the light switch on the wall.

Her brain took in the information and tried to interpret it.

A back covered in a dark grey shirt. A black head of hair. Blue jeans. A curled up body turned away from her on a dark green comforter.

She knew what her brain was trying to tell her but was still confused. She didn't feel like herself. It all seemed surreal, blurred at the edges. She wandered closer.

She came to the other side so that she could see the face that belonged to the body. She bent to look at it…at him. Nearly black eyes stared forward at nothing.

He looked like a handsome dark-haired _dead_ man in his early twenties.

Like when a high school acquaintance had died of a brain aneurism. She had gone to the funeral, open casket. And there he had been - young and beautiful and dead. Like a doll, frozen in time. His eyes had been closed, but their faces still looked similar. Motionless. Emotionless.

She reeled. She panicked. She reached out a hand that still didn't feel like hers. She touched his shoulder. Her senses were dulled, but she could still feel the softness of the shirt. It took a moment for her to force his name out of her mouth. The first time she tried, Christine coughed. The second time -

" _Erik!"_ she hoarsely cried. _"Erik! Erik!"_ He didn't respond, didn't blink or move. She frantically shook him. _"Erik!"_

She grew dizzier. Her hand was – flickering? Her whole body was! Corey came running in. "Woah!" His mouth dropped open. "Christine, calm down." His voice sounded far away. "You have to calm down, or you're going to jump out. Please calm down." Alice was now there, too, staring with wide eyes. Corey gently grabbed Christine by the arm and led her out of the room. She was too weak and wobbly to resist. "I didn't mean for you to go in there alone."

"Why is she flickering?" asked Alice with concern.

"I think it's because of the way we connected her. It's less stable. We'll have to be careful."

He guided her to the couch, and she sat down. Corey sat on one side of her. Alice sat on the other.

Her body stopped flickering, but her hands were still shaking. Everything began to come back into focus. She felt sick to her stomach. "Is he d-dead?" she whispered.

"I don't think so," said Alice. "When people die here, they disappear. He just doesn't respond. And hasn't for a while now."

Christine stared at the floor. "I knew what to expect," she murmured. "Corey told me. And yet actually seeing it…" She shook her head. "I can't believe it. Any of it." Her physical symptoms of panic faded. They were replaced by an unbearable ache in her chest.

"We've tried talking to him," Alice continued. "Yelling at him. Getting him to go outside and take a walk. Now he won't do anything. He lies there all day. I don't know if they've permanently…changed his brain. I don't know. I just know it can't go on like this forever." Her shoulders slumped.

"No, it can't," she dully agreed. Christine took another minute to calm down. "I want to go back in there."

"Are you sure?" asked Corey. "You don't need a break?"

"No," said Christine. "I want to go back. I'm okay now. I promise." She stood and made sure she didn't feel dizzy. Then she started walking. Corey came with her. Alice stayed sitting.

They reached Erik's room. This time, she managed not to freak out at the sight of that frozen body. "Is Alice upset?" she whispered as they entered.

"Not at you," Corey whispered back. "A little at me. She thought I forced you to come here. I explained everything you said to me. About you and him. Or I tried."

Christine didn't know if she wanted anyone else telling that story. "What'd she say?"

"That she needed a glass of wine."

Christine brokenly laughed. "Wine doesn't sound terrible right now."

"She'll be okay. She just doesn't know what to do."

Christine stared at Erik. Not her Erik. Was there any of her Erik left? _What to do? Where to start?_ She walked to the other side of the bed again so that she was facing him. She let her hand trail over his clothed arm. She brushed her index finger against his cheek. She could feel his breath. Was breath here real? Was heartbeat real?

"Could I have a moment?" she asked, giving Corey a pleading glance. "I promise I'm okay."

"Sure…" said Corey with slight reluctance. "Call if you need anything. Call if you start to panic."

"I will. Thank you for everything. Tell…tell Alice I'll talk to her soon."

Corey nodded and left, leaving the door slightly ajar. She was comforted by his and Alice's presence in the other room. She needed help and support. But – Christine wanted to speak to Erik without an audience.

She reached out and took his limp hand. His skin felt clammy but was still warmer here than in the real world. She remembered the last time she had seen him - when he had told her that he loved her, then turned the corner, leaving her alone at that outdoor shopping center. She stroked her thumb over the back of his hand. "Erik," she said. She slowly leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to his forehead. Her lips lingered there, but he didn't react. "Erik, I don't know if you can hear me. But I'll talk to you like you can." _Breathe in. Breathe out._ "Erik, it's…it's Christine. I found you." She swallowed back her tears. "Surprise."


	39. Chapter 39

First, I was contacted by someone who asked if they could create an audio play using "Of Threnodies and Roses." I said - "Awesome! Sure!" While the roles of Christine and Raoul are taken, the rest can still be auditioned for. Please see my profile for more details.

And now - here's a long chapter to frustrate the heck out of you ;) The next one shouldn't be as bad, I promise. Thank you for all your lovely comments. They keep me going.

 **Read and Review!**

"Erik, it's…it's Christine. I found you. Surprise."

When she received no reaction, she continued speaking, her voice soft yet steady. "Or it's sort of me. Corey had to hijack an A.I. When he first said that, I thought we were committing a crime. Like a hijacking. That's silly, isn't it?" She stroked his hand. "They did pretty well. I think they got my voice about right. What do you think?" She sighed in the silence. It was probably best to stay with lighter topics. "Okay, here's a story that you might find funny. I toured with a punk band. I felt so out of place. But everyone was nice except this one girl. Like she was unbelievably mean. She tried to trick me into eating a marijuana cookie." She laughed. "Nadir is in Colorado right now. He lives all by himself in this cabin." She slyly whispered, "Do you think he eats cookies like that when no one is looking?"

She squeezed his hand. Her other hand went to his cheek, and she tried to direct his face toward making eye contact with her. It was difficult. "Erik," she said, her voice trembling. "Erik, it's Christine. Can you see me?" She forced a tearful smile. "Erik. I kept singing. I went to weird places to sing, like these dark bars and tiny concert venues. Sometimes people seemed to like me." She thought of something else. "This one guy in the band was kind of obsessed with your song. I tried to protect it because it was yours. You should get some credit. You should at least know that you have fans." A pause. "Although you probably don't want them."

She released his face and it fell back to the bed, his eyes blank. "Damn it," she muttered through gritted teeth as panic threatened to break through. "I should have checked on you sooner. I let them take you because I thought it'd keep you alive. I thought you'd be happy. Everything was so confusing. And I was a mess…I was…Oh," she whispered. "I don't want to talk about that right now." That was a conversation for when he was lucid, for when everything could be carefully discussed. Erik wasn't innocent in all of that chaos, but now wasn't the time for blame.

Instead, she began to sing his song for him. Her voice wasn't great because she wasn't accustomed to the different timbre. She sounded off key and shaky. Still, she tried her best. She rubbed his arm and shoulder. When she was finished, she leaned down and kissed his forehead and cheek. Still nothing.

Did he need a real kiss? It always worked in the fairy tales. "Snow White." "Sleeping Beauty." She bent down again and kissed his lips. She felt warm, motionless flesh. She closed her eyes and pressed up against him, kissing him as well as she could without receiving any affection in return. She leaned back as her heart ached. "Stupid fairy tales," she murmured. "But you probably knew that. You were cynical." _Were._ "Are cynical," she quickly corrected herself.

"Oh, Erik," she continued. "I got to see different parts of the country. I met all these new people. I had a few adventures. And I thought of you the whole time. I thought about us seeing the world together. I thought about us making music. I missed you. I-" There was a knock at the door. She swallowed and brushed a tear away. "Come in," she said.

Corey stuck his head in. He stared at her with a sympathetic expression. "Ready for your break?"

"Can I just stay here?" she asked. "I'm fine."

"That'll be six hours in. You're not going to feel great. Your muscles will be stiff."

"Please," she pled. "I don't need a break."

"All right. But next time, we're doing four hours in, a break, and then another four in. Okay?"

"Okay. That's good."

Corey nodded and left.

"See, Erik?" she asked, looking back down at him. "My muscles are going to get stiff, all because you won't wake up. Please wake up."

A couple minutes passed. She hesitated. _Well, why not?_ She walked to the other side of the bed. She reclined beside him and rolled over to her left side. She wrapped her right arm around the front of him, her chest pressed against his back. "Fine," she said into his ear. "If you won't wake up, I'll just sleep, too. Or will that cause me to jump out? I don't understand all the rules yet. Anyway, I'll lie here."

She was exhausted from sadness, desperation, and a lack of sleep and food. This was the closest she had been to Erik in months, so at least she had that to find comfort in. She softly hummed for a little while, a medley of his song and others she had sung. She pressed her face into the back of his neck. He didn't smell like anything, to an unnatural degree. Maybe her sense of smell was badly numbed here.

Everything here was not quite enough.

She drifted off every now and then. She appreciated what she did have, at least some piece of him to grab onto. They were miles apart and yet – what? Their codified brain waves were close together? It was all so confusing.

She didn't want to leave him. But the hours passed, and Corey eventually said that she had ten minutes left. She sat up and gave him a final kiss on the forehead. "Goodbye, Erik. I'll see you tomorrow. If you could wake up for me, I'd really appreciate that."

She left the room, feeling overly warm and disheveled. Alice and Corey glanced at her as she walked into the living room. "Nothing," she said, looking at the floor.

"It's okay," said Alice. "All we can do is try."

"But I'm coming back," Christine stated. "I want to keep trying."

"Sure," said Corey. "We're not in a big hurry, are we?" He looked at Alice.

"No," she agreed, softly. "No hurry."

"I'm hopping out," said Corey. "I'll see you in a couple of minutes." He must have read her expression. "You'll come back tomorrow night. I promise."

Christine nodded. Corey flickered and then vanished. Christine looked at Alice. "Thanks for taking care of him," she said. "I'll see you soon."

"Sure," said Alice. She looked as tired as Christine felt. "See you."

Christine saw her own hands flicker. There was a quick flash of darkness. Then she was back in the chair. Corey carefully removed the goggles and helmet. Christine blinked as her eyes adjusted to the light, feeling a little dizzy. For a second, she didn't remember anything. Then it all came back to her. She put a hand to her mouth and suppressed a sob.

"Are you okay?" asked Corey as he removed the wires.

She closed her eyes. "I…I can't believe this."

"I know. It's been hard. We'll just have to see." He gave her a few moments to recover, not offering any false words of hope. He then left so that she could change back into her disguise. Her motions were robotic. Her muscles were stiff and sore, and she needed sleep. She didn't say much as Corey took her out of the mostly empty building and back home. It was the middle of the night, nearly two in the morning, and the streets were empty.

"You sure you're okay?" asked Corey as he dropped her off. "Please get some sleep."

"I will. I'll be okay. Thank you."

Once inside her apartment, she threw off all her clothes, slipped on a large t-shirt, and climbed into bed. She cried herself to sleep and didn't wake up until ten in the morning. After lying in bed and staring at the ceiling for ten minutes, she took a long hot shower. The frozen dinners that she had bought looked unappetizing, so she ran out and grabbed Chinese food at the closest restaurant. Sweet and sour chicken, fried rice, and egg drop soup.

After eating and sleeping, she felt somewhat sane again. Her thoughts were clearer, and she tried to figure out a solution. What would wake him up? Maybe the repetitiveness of her visits would help. Maybe he would be able to sense that she wasn't abandoning him, that she wasn't giving up. She would keep singing and talking to him, touching him, kissing him. She would not stop until he woke up.

Or…disappeared.

Corey picked her up the following evening. She was wearing her disguise again. "How you doing?" he asked as she climbed into his car.

"It was kind of rough," she admitted.

"I know."

"But I feel better now. And I'm not giving up."

Back into SCI she went, although the process was much quicker this time. Back to the helmet, goggles, and beeping machines. She relaxed immediately and didn't jump out. Corey made her appear right outside of Erik's apartment. It still took her a second to find her balance. Corey had said to go ahead and knock. He would be right behind her.

Alice answered the door. "Hi." She moved so that Christine could come in.

"Hi. Any change?"

"Nope," said Alice. With a sad smile, she continued, "I heard you singing yesterday. I thought that, if I sang to him badly, maybe he'd become disgusted and wake up, just to get away from me. Or at least cover his ears. It didn't work."

Christine laughed. "Now there's an idea. Disgusting him, I mean. I should bring Raoul in here and have him lie next to Erik. If that doesn't wake him up, nothing will."

"Heh. I remember him. He was cute." Alice hesitated and then softly asked, "Are you still with him?"

"Oh, no," said Christine. "We broke up a while ago. I was just making a joke. A bad joke, I guess."

"No, nothing wrong with that. I…Well, never mind."

Corey came in. Alice locked the door behind him. "What's the plan for today?" he asked.

"Bad singing and ex-boyfriends," Alice replied.

Corey blinked. "I'm game."

Christine smiled and was grateful that Erik was in the care of these two individuals, that there were genuinely good people in the world. "I guess I'll go see him," she said. Corey and Alice didn't protest. She added, "You guys get some sleep if you need it. Or do whatever you need to do. I'll be fine."

"Thanks," said Alice.

She found Erik where she had left him, curled in his ball with a blank stare. "Hello, Erik," she greeted. "It's Christine again. You're stuck with me for another eight hours. I'm going to keep bugging you until you wake up."

She sat beside him and took his hand. She told him about some of her band adventures, including Charlotte's sabotage of her concert. She sang to him, songs from all genres and periods. She lay with him, running a hand through his dark hair, pressing an occasional kiss to his warm cheek.

Eventually, Corey said she needed to leave for a fifteen minute break. She used the time to stretch her limbs and go to the bathroom. Corey had brought a granola bar and bottle of water. She thanked him and devoured both, knowing she couldn't allow herself to physically and mentally deteriorate during these sessions.

Christine went back into the System. Once in Erik's apartment, she told Alice, "I wish I had other ideas."

"Me, too. I've tried everything. I gave him sunshine the other day, like a plant," Alice replied. "I even considered pinching him, but I thought that might make him retreat even further into himself."

"You thought right," said Christine, remembering Nadir's story. She shuddered. "Please no pain."

"I won't. It was just a passing desperate thought."

Desperation was certainly the theme of the hour. Christine went back into the room. This time, instead of talking about the past, she carefully spoke of the future. "I'd love to see Paris with you, Erik. Or Rome or London. Imagine walking down the streets during a warm summer night. Trying the food and looking at the buildings and castles from hundreds of years ago. Imagine finding a little hotel or bed and breakfast, one that's kind of off the map. And just being there together, sipping tea and staring out the windows. Can you picture that?"

By the end of that session, he still hadn't moved. She leaned down and kissed his forehead. "Erik, I'd give anything for you to even look at me. Erik, look at me! It's Christine! Can't you even look at me?" She buried her face in her hands until Corey told her it was time to go. "Goodbye, Erik," she murmured. "See you tomorrow."

As Corey took her home, she tried to think of anything that might help. "I could read to him," she said with a note of desperation. "Maybe an exciting story?"

"Sure," Corey agreed. "We have plenty of books there."

"I could watch a movie with him. Play loud music?" She grunted in frustration. "I don't know. That all seems silly."

"I wish I could help you," he said. "He's in there deep. He's…I don't know."

Corey didn't say it was hopeless, but she got the feeling he was thinking it. She saw it in Alice's eyes too. Christine tried not to feel that way. She told herself that it would simply take time and persistence. She'd do this for a year if she had to. For years.

As they neared her apartment, Corey said, "So tomorrow, I have to do some work at night. I'm a little behind schedule with my job. After I put you in the System, it'll be only you and Alice. Is that okay? I'll still pull you out at the right times."

"Yeah. That's fine."

Corey gently touched her arm as she climbed out of his car. "I'm sorry," he said.

She nodded, biting back tears. And, as she lay in bed, she couldn't keep the question from creeping into her head -

 _What if she were too late?_

* * *

Daniel called at six in the morning.

Hope was an early riser, usually waking up by five-thirty to hop on the elliptical. The routine gave her energy for the day.

She wasn't used to being called at that time, though. Her first thought was that something was wrong. Holding a cup of coffee, she answered. "Daniel? What's going on?"

"I had to tell you." He sounded excited, breathless.

"What? Is it Nick?"

"No, no. No change there."

"Then what?" she snapped. "Erik?"

"No."

"Then why the hell are you calling me so early?"

"It's Patient D," he explained. "I experimented with a surgical technique, removed a portion of his brain. I changed his memories, woke him up, and he's still alive. He's kind of a mess. Lower intelligence. But he still has the false memories, and he's alive, which was what I was supposed to do, right? I can work on perfecting the technique."

A pause.

"I'll be right there," Hope replied.

* * *

Desperate times called for desperate measures. Christine resorted to the most terrible of threats.

"Erik. If you don't wake up, I'm going to tickle you. I'm going to tickle your bare feet. What do you think of that?" She crossed her arms and puffed out her chest. "I'll do it. I mean it."

It sadly dawned on her that she couldn't imagine saying these things to him in the real world. He was so young and small here, so utterly unintimidating. Somewhere, there had to be a happy medium. Between being a hostage walking on eggshells and holding the hand of this lifeless young man. Between devastatingly dark intensity that could sometimes be terrifying… and blank eyes coupled with hands that created nothing. She had to believe that there was a third choice.

But first, Erik needed to wake up.

She didn't tickle him, only giving his foot a gentle squeeze instead. She drew her legs up to her chest and put her arms around them. She had about two more hours left with him that night and was trying to think of new ideas. She'd spent most of her time singing and then reading a Stephen King book to him, figuring he might enjoy a darker story.

There was a knock at the door. "Come in," she said.

Alice poked her head into the room. "Hey. I thought I'd check. Do you want to be alone? Or would you like some company?"

Her sitting in here by herself was accomplishing nothing. Christine replied, "Company would be great. Are you sure you don't need sleep?"

"I took a long nap this afternoon. I'm good." Alice disappeared for a moment and then brought a wooden chair in from the kitchen. She sat across from the bed.

After a moment, Christine asked, "How did you meet him?"

"I saw him at our bar, playing the piano. He was really good. I got to know him a little after that. I showed him around, helped him make some friends."

It sounded so strangely normal. "What was he like?"

Alice tilted her head. "Just kind of…a nice, quieter kid. I could sense that he had been through something. Well, nearly everyone in the System has been through something. But I never imagined that he was so different from his real self." Alice hesitated. "Did he tell you that he saw me? Out there, I mean?"

"No." Christine's eyes widened. "What happened?"

"I tried to get him to come back here, thinking he'd be happy. And I told him it was wrong to kidnap… people." Alice uncomfortably smiled and glanced down. "He didn't like that very much. He said that he was marrying you, that he wanted to stay there. He was kind of a jerk. After that conversation, I was done with him. But then I found out you were free. He came back here and didn't seem to remember any of it. So I tried to be nice to him. And he was nice again until he faded away."

"Thank you for being good to him, even after knowing the truth."

"Well," said Alice. "You don't forget your first impression of someone. I think I always thought of him as that sweet kid, even after seeing the real him. It's weird, I know."

Christine stared at Erik, a tenderness sweeping over her. "It was the opposite for me. His first impression…I was terrified…It took time. And slow realizations." She shook her head. "Maybe too slow. Maybe I'm too late."

"We're all doing our best," Alice replied. "Don't feel bad. This wasn't your fault."

"But I should have checked on him. They could have killed him, and I didn't even check to make sure he was alive." Her breathing became faster as she choked up. "I just let them do what they wanted, knowing that he was probably fragile and alone. I didn't even check…"

"Christine," said Alice, gently. She ran out of the room and returned with a tissue. Christine gratefully took it and murmured her thanks. Alice sat back down but leaned forward. "Christine, when I first saw you here, I was angry at Corey. I thought he'd made you come here. He tried to explain what you told him, how you asked to help Erik. I didn't quite understand. I do see that you care about him -"

"I do," she whispered.

"But after what happened, you shouldn't feel bad for needing some space. The fact that you're here at all, that you forgave him for… _that_ , is really something. Please don't feel bad."

"I understand what you're saying," said Christine, wiping at her eyes and nose. "But I can't help it. I care so much. It _hurts_. It hurts so much. I want to see him alive. I want to hug him and see him alive." She reached out and took his hand again. And that was when she said it. Maybe she felt more comfortable admitting it to another girl. Maybe she simply couldn't keep it in any longer. "The truth…the real truth is that I… I had just started to love him. The night before he let me go, I realized that I could love him. And...and then he was gone."

Alice looked like she was about to reply. Then she glanced at Erik. Her eyes narrowed. She leaned to the side, staring at his face.

"What's wrong?" asked Christine, at first thinking Alice was upset by her confession.

"I thought I…Say that again," said Alice in a soft voice. She corrected herself, "If you meant it, say it again."

Christine was confused. "What's wrong?"

"No, right before that."

"I started to love him? And then he was-"

It happened so quickly that she barely comprehended it. She was holding Erik's hand. Then she wasn't. Her knee was brushing against his back as she sat cross-legged on the bed. Then it wasn't.

Erik was gone. Or rather - he was standing. And staring at her with…well, with horror.

Alice found her voice first. "Erik," she began with disbelief. "You're-"

" _No._ " His voice was hoarse and young. He glared at Christine and took several steps backwards. "No, _you_ are…you are another trick. An illusion!"

"Erik," Christine whispered. She was still in shock. She started to reach out to him. "I'm…No! Erik, I'm not a trick! I'm real. I mean I'm-"

"Yes!" he snapped. "You are another manipulation! A program! And you are, by far, the _sickest_ one of all! Even worse than my mother. _Sick!_ This is sick!"

Alice slowly rose. "Erik, she's not a program. She's real. Corey found a way-"

"You are part of it!" he snapped at her. "All part of it. All so… _Sick!_ " He ran out of the room. Before they could move, the front door opened and slammed closed.

Christine and Alice gaped at each other.

Christine slowly smiled. Her eyes were blurry with tears, and she felt completely disoriented. But she knew this was good. It was still complicated, but it was good. "He's awake," she said. "At least he's awake. He's alive!"

"Yes," said Alice, nodding. "Yes. This is definitely progress."

They walked into the empty living room.

"Now what?" asked Christine. She wanted to sob with relief and yet knew the hard part was just beginning.

"I guess I'll find a flashlight. It's a Friday night, so people will still be out. We'll look in the places he's familiar with. I wish Corey were here. But we won't bother him yet."

Heart pumping and adrenaline racing, Christine followed Alice outside. Alice shined the flashlight over their surroundings, the apartment complexes and the street. "Erik!" she called. "Erik! Come back! Let us explain!"

Christine called his name, too. "Erik! Erik, please! Come back! I'm real! I'm not a program!" What a strange thing to yell. She asked Alice, "So he knows that he's in the System, right? He knows who I am, kind of. Does that mean he remembers everything from real life?"

"No idea," said Alice. "He could be a mix of his two selves. That's the feeling I got when I saw him with Ben. Like both Eriks were there." They were soon in the business district, near the restaurants and theater. "Let's check the bar," she said, motioning toward a small building that had people talking in front of it. Alice went inside, and Christine followed her. It was crowded and loud, but no one appeared to be obnoxiously drunk. _Could people get obnoxiously drunk here?_

Alice looked around. "I'm not seeing him."

"Hey! Alice!" A brawny blond guy was calling out to her and waving.

"Oh, no," muttered Alice. She forced a smile. "Hi, Ken. What's up?"

"Haven't seen you around," he said, walking over to them.

"Yeah, I've been so busy with work. Hey, you haven't seen Erik, have you?"

"No. Haven't seen him in forever." Ken suddenly looked at Christine with interest. "Hey."

"Hi," she nervously replied and tried to keep her face slightly turned away from him.

"You new?" he asked. "I don't think I've seen you around."

Alice quickly replied, "Yeah, she's not here for long. It's a…a story. I'll see you later. I have to go."

Suddenly, a blonde girl was calling, "Alice! Come hang out! You, Corey, and Erik are no fun anymore."

Alice sighed. "Sorry, Leigh! Later!" She rushed out of the bar, and Christine quickly followed before everyone else saw them. "My social life has taken a hit," Alice stated. She shined the flashlight over the buildings and all the people walking by. "Not that I had an amazing one to begin with."

"Believe me, it's better than mine," said Christine. She looked around with slight awe. Everyone seemed young. They were all laughing, talking, and having fun. "Was Erik ever happy here?" she hesitantly asked. It was hard to imagine Erik as a part of this world.

"At one time, I thought he was," Alice replied. They kept walking and left the business district. Alice searched around the park where Christine had first appeared, the light glimmering off the lake. "He always seemed a little lost and sad. But he had friends and a job. He went to social events." Erik wasn't at the park. They continued forward.

Christine nodded. "If he'd been happy here, I would have left him alone. I wouldn't have taken that from him."

Alice replied, "I think it's good you came. But...well, you both have some rough decisions coming up." Before Christine could respond, Alice shined her flashlight over what appeared to be the base of a large hill or a mountain. She saw the outline of a dirt trail and lots of leafy trees. "I have another idea as to where he could be. Ready for a climb? It's not that bad, but it is a bit of a hike."

"Uh. Yeah, let's go." The dark forest looked scary, but Christine remembered the rules of this world. They headed into the trees. She heard the rustling of the leaves, but maybe it was the wind. Despite walking and climbing, she didn't feel tired from the exertion. "Are there bears here?" Christine asked.

Alice laughed. "No bears. Squirrels maybe. Birds definitely."

"Is it neat living in a place where you can't be hurt?"

"Sometimes it is. Sometimes it can be a little boring."

They climbed in silence for a while. Alice used the flashlight to search in the gaps between the trees. Finally, they reached the end and the top. There was a gurgling stream and a small waterfall, along with a large patch of grass. The area would have been pretty in the sunlight. "Well," said Alice, discouraged. "That was my last idea. We're going to have to wait for him to come back."

Yet Christine had a feeling that he was near. She'd had it the entire time that they had been walking. Still, it could have been false hope. "What time is it?" she asked.

Alice checked her phone. "About twenty minutes until two."

"I have to leave soon. I think I'll just stay up here."

"Are you sure? It's not too creepy? Do you want me to stay?"

"No," said Christine. "You go get some sleep. Thanks for helping me look. I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Yeah. Hopefully, we'll have better luck. He can't hide forever, right?"

"Right..."

Alice headed back toward the downward slope. With a wave, she was gone. Christine stared out over the edge, able to see a few yellow lights from the town. What would happen if she jumped off the mountain? A soft landing? Or would she fly? She wasn't brave enough to try.

She sighed and turned around, preparing herself to go home. At least she'd had success. Kind of.

And then, in the light of the full moon, she saw a dark shape standing by the stream. His eyes glimmered, watching her. His hands were clenched. She had the feeling that he had been following them the whole time, watching them as they searched. She wasn't angry. After all, he was - "Erik."

" _No."_ He stepped backwards until his foot was against the edge of the bank. He glared. "You are a program."

"I'm not. I promise I'm not!" She resisted approaching him, not wanting him to run. She explained as fast as she was able. "Corey hijacked one of their…their artificial intelligence people. But it's the real me. My real mind. I came here to see you. You wouldn't wake up. I was afraid you were hurt. And I missed you-"

" _Stop it!_ You are not real! You are another manipulation. A code. To get me to be as they want. And you are sick! They should not have not done this. Why did they?" His hands clutched his head. "Why?! To make me insane. No - to wake me!" He nodded to himself as he found an explanation. "They wanted to wake me. That is why they created you. They will not let me leave. They will not let me sleep. They will not let me die. They fuck with my head until there is nothing left but a jumble of hell. Until I do not even know what is true. Except that you... _you_ cannot be real. They are sick, sick…"

Her heart hurt. "Erik. Please let me talk-"

"No! You are not real! And now that I am awake, now that they have what they want, they may delete you." He studied her. "Oh, they did not even put effort into you. You are off. Your voice is nearly correct. But your appearance is off. And they can retract you now!" He stared at the sky. "Delete that! Erase it! Stop it!"

"Erik," she whispered. He again moved way, shuffling along the edge of the stream, glaring. "Erik. I'm going to sit right here," she said, knowing that she had to retreat. She turned around and gazed at the world below. She sat on a flat rock. A minute or so passed in the silence, but she could sense him behind her. Without looking at him, she stated, "The first thing you ever said to me was, 'Your phone is beside the castle.' You pretended to be an electrician at the theater. I thought you had the best voice in the whole world."

He didn't say anything. She stayed quiet, too, letting her words sink in.

She could feel him inching closer. She finally dared to look at him. He was probably three feet away. He froze.

She wished that she could tell Corey to leave her in the System a little longer, but that wasn't possible. And she had made progress that day. Maybe Erik needed time to process it all. "I'm disappearing soon," she told him.

"Because they are deleting you?" he accused although his voice shook.

"No. I have to go home. Back to _our_ city. I'll be back in the System tomorrow night. I hope I see you. I hope you'll stay awake." He only stared. She looked out at the night sky. Again, he crept closer. She said, "One day, I'm going to ask Corey to let me stay long enough to see the sunrise. Is it different here?"

She glanced at him one more time. He was reaching out a hand to touch her hair. She sadly smiled.

And then she vanished.


	40. Chapter 40

**Well, I hope you guys like this one. I think it's successfully strange. Haha. Thank you for all the lovely reviews on that last one.**

 **Read and Review!**

Corey wasn't expecting the hug he received after removing Christine's goggles and helmet. "He's awake!" she exclaimed, throwing her arms around his neck with a big tearful smile.

"Oh! Oh, wow. All right. Awesome." He didn't know what to say beyond that and gently patted her back.

She released him. "I wish I could have stayed. I think I had just gotten him convinced that I was a real person."

"…What?"

Christine explained everything to him as he took her home, about how she and Alice had searched for Erik. And how Christine had found him on the mountain. "I told him something that only I know. He came so close to me, but I disappeared before we could talk."

"Why did he finally wake up?" Corey asked. "I missed that part."

Christine shifted. "Well, I um…I told Alice how I really felt about him."

"Oh." Corey decided he didn't need to pry.

She shook her head. "I don't know if I'll be able to sleep. I can't wait for tomorrow."

"Well, I'll try to make sure he's there when you get back," Corey replied. _That was going to be fun._ "Please try to sleep. Sleep deprivation really messes with your head. Trust me on this. One time, when I was still getting used to SCI night shifts, I thought a baseball was an apple and tried to bite it."

"I will. I promise." Christine practically skipped to her apartment door that night.

Corey took a moment to gather his thoughts as he made sure that she got inside safely. He then pulled away. _Did I do the right thing?_ He had come too far to back out now, and the mission had obviously been somewhat successful. He decided to immediately return to the System and check on Alice. Here he had told Christine to sleep, and he was barely going to get any.

He drove back to SCI. "You're working some weird hours," a coworker said as he helped get Corey plugged in. "I've seen you around here a lot at night. Anything wrong?"

"Nah. Just figuring out some technical issues," Corey muttered and knew he'd have to be careful. This could not go on forever. Eventually, he and Christine would be discovered.

Eventually – a new plan would have to be put into place.

Corey popped into the System. The door to Erik's apartment was unlocked, so he didn't have to knock. He didn't see anyone in the living room. He wandered into Erik's bedroom where the light was on. Alice was fast asleep atop the comforter, on her stomach with her hands near her face. She half woke as he took a seat on the bed. "Hey," he softly said. "I heard you and Christine had a busy night."

"Oh," she mumbled. "I left…door unlocked. Not here, is he?"

"Nope." Corey yawned. "It'll be easier to look in the daytime. He should be okay." That bed looked so damned nice. "Mind if I sleep next to you?"

"Nope," she murmured, closing her eyes again.

After taking off his shoes, Corey lay beside her. She scooted closer and rested her head on his shoulder. Smiling, he put an arm around her, and they peacefully slept for several hours.

They were awoken by the front door opening and closing. Corey sat up. "Erik?" he asked, blinking.

"I hope so," she said, rubbing her eyes. "We should make sure it's not Ben trying to kill us all."

They both got up and sauntered into the living room. Early morning sunlight streamed in through the windows. Erik stood in the middle of the room. He stared at them.

"Heeey," said Corey. "What's up? Good to see you all…not comatose."

Alice nudged him in the ribs with her elbow. "Hi, Erik," she said in a gentler voice. "Are you okay?"

Looking away, Erik walked to the couch and took a seat in the corner of it. He folded his arms against his chest and stared at the floor.

"Can I get you anything?" Alice asked. "Water?"

Erik was silent for several moments. He finally asked, "Is _that_ coming back?"

"Is what coming back?" Alice replied. "Oh. Is _she_ coming back? Do you want _her_ to?"

"Why should I care if a program returns?" Erik nearly snapped.

"For the love of God," said Alice. "She's real. She is not a program."

"Right," added Corey. "She contacted me in the real world. When I explained the situation, she wanted to help wake you up. So I found a way to get her in here. She's real."

"You're lying," Erik rasped. "Why won't you all quit lying to me? It is sick. Is it punishment, or did you simply want me to wake up? Either way, it is sick."

Alice sighed. "Why don't you ask her something that only the real Christine would know?"

Erik twitched. "That does not matter. It is all a trick. And I am not talking about it anymore."

Alice shook her head. Corey had another idea. "Hey. Let's go get some coffee and donuts. Alice has had a long night, and I think she'd like donuts."

Alice tilted her head. "I really don't need -" Corey gave her a look and a wink. "Oh. Yeah, I really do need that. A glazed donut."

Erik stared at them.

"C'mon," said Corey. He didn't even know how he'd reached this strange point in his life. He just went with it. "Let's get something delicious to eat."

"Please go," begged Alice. "A walk and sunshine will do you good. You've been lying in bed for so long."

"I was not disturbing anyone," stated Erik, his voice nearly inaudible. "Why not let me be?" The anger had faded from his face, and he looked more confused than anything.

"Because we thought you were dying," Alice softly replied.

"Come with us," said Corey in the most cheerful voice he could muster. "You don't have to do anything except walk to the donut shop."

"You won't talk about _that_?" Erik asked.

"We won't," said Corey. He was kind of telling the truth. Not really.

"Please," Alice begged, folding her hands together. "We won't bother you the rest of the day if you come with us."

Arms still crossed, Erik rose. He slowly walked to where Corey and Alice stood. He shrugged and kept his gaze on the floor, reminding Corey of a grouchy teenager being dragged somewhere by his well-meaning yet clueless parents. Still, Corey breathed a quiet sigh of relief. They left the apartment together, and Alice locked the door behind them. He and Alice walked slightly ahead of Erik. "What are we doing?" Alice whispered.

"You'll see."

It was about an eight minute walk, and the morning air was cool and refreshing. They entered the little shop. There was only one other customer finishing up at the register. Corey approached. He smiled at Daphne, the pretty blonde donut shop cashier. A _real_ artificial intelligence unit. "Hello!" he greeted.

She smiled, revealing a row of perfect white teeth. "Good morning," she replied. "How may I help you?"

Corey turned and looked at Erik, who stood behind them, appearing perturbed. "Look, Erik. This is artificial intelligence. Watch." Corey turned back to her. "Daphne, I want to ask your opinion on global warming? Manmade or natural?"

She blinked. "I don't have the answer to that question. I'm unable to understand. Would you like a donut?"

Corey grinned. "All right. Let's try something simple. Do cigarettes cause cancer?"

"I don't have access to that information. Would you like coffee?"

Corey turned back to Erik. "See? Our artificial intelligence isn't all that intelligent. In fact, it's kind of embarrassing how dumb it is. I wished they'd fix it."

Erik glared. "You made the other one different. Smarter. That is all." He stepped backwards. "Quit talking about that. You said you wouldn't! Why are you talking about that?"

"Talk to her, Erik," Alice pled, gesturing at Daphne. "See what our A.I. is really like here."

" _Stop it!"_ Erik was nearly ready to run out the door.

Corey shook his head. It had been worth a shot. "I'll have three coffees and three glazed donuts."

"Excellent," Daphne replied. "I'll have that right out, Sir."

Alice shrugged. Corey was too tired to think of anything else. They stood there silently, waiting for their order.

 _Crash!_

He and Alice jumped a foot into the air. Corey turned around and gaped. Erik stood beside a pile of silverware and broken plates. He had knocked down the bin where people put their used dishes and forks, sending a mess of food, metal, and ceramic onto the floor. His gaze was fixed on Daphne.

"Oh, no," said Daphne, unfazed. "Looks like you had an oopsie. Don't worry. I'll get that cleaned up."

Still smiling, she handed Corey the coffee and donuts. He shakily took them. Grabbing a broom and a dustpan, she walked over and began to sweep up the mess, humming to herself.

"Jesus Christ. Let's go home," Corey muttered.

"Why did you do that?" Alice asked Erik in a hushed voice.

He folded his arms and refused to answer.

And – they were done. Alice and Corey spent part of the day sleeping. They each went to work for a couple hours while the other stayed at the apartment, keeping an eye on things. Erik remained on the couch all day, staring at the wall. He stayed awake, conscious, but was obviously deeply disturbed.

"Should we say something to him?" Corey asked in the middle of the afternoon. He had told Alice about his conversation with Christine.

"No," said Alice. "Let's get her back here and deal with it then. It can't help that she disappeared right in front of him."

Corey soon left to fetch Christine. She ran out to his car five minutes early. Nervously rubbing her hands together, she asked about Erik, and Corey told her the truth.

"He's awake," she replied. "That's all that matters. I just need to see him again. I thought I'd gotten through to him…"

"I kind of think that he knows you're real but doesn't want to admit it," Corey replied.

"Why wouldn't he?" she asked, sounding a little hurt.

"You're asking me?" Corey chuckled. "Christine. If you can figure that guy out, someone should give you a PhD in psychology."

She sighed and looked out the window. "He just needs some time."

* * *

The last sixteen hours or so had felt like a lifetime. She'd only been able to sleep for a couple of hours and then made herself eat a frozen dinner and some leftover Chinese food. Even her favorite chick flicks hadn't made the hours go by quickly. Her thoughts constantly wandered to what she would say to him. And to what she wouldn't say yet. It partly depended on how he reacted to her. She was afraid that he would run away again.

After Corey plopped her in the System, Christine entered the apartment and immediately looked for him. Erik was sitting on the couch. He looked up and violently flinched when he saw her.

"Hi," she said with a smile and wave, already feeling like she was in a dreamland. She stepped toward him. Erik jumped up and bolted for the door. "Erik, don't you remember?" she frantically asked. "I told you the first thing you said to me. I told you -"

" _Stop!"_ He put his hands over his ears and closed his eyes. "Stop, stop, stop. You cannot be real. You cannot! You are an illusion! You must be!"

Alice came to stand beside her. Corey entered at that moment. They all stood there, helplessly staring at him. "It's best to back off," Christine finally said to them. "He approaches when I back off. Let's focus on something else. Do we have any games?"

"Uh. I'll go find a deck of cards," said Alice. She ran out the door and was back in fifteen minutes. Corey and Christine took a seat in the kitchen. She hadn't heard the door open again, so that meant Erik hadn't run away.

"What should we play?" asked Corey.

"Something mindless," Alice replied. "How about War?"

"Fine with me," said Christine. Her heart was racing, but she was trying to stay calm. All she really wanted to do was run to Erik and embrace him, to touch him and kiss him. _So this is what it's like to be the one doing the chasing._ It really wasn't much fun.

They began to play War. Corey got into it, becoming excited when he realized that he had three aces. Alice was more reserved, and Christine could barely concentrate on the game at all. She was facing the kitchen entryway and kept sneaking peeks at it.

Finally, she saw him. Erik stood right behind the wall, suspiciously watching them with his eyes narrowed. Following her gaze, Corey glanced behind him. "Creepy," Corey murmured, turning back around.

Alice glanced up, shook her head, and laughed.

"I told you he'd come closer," whispered Christine. She finished a war with Corey and smiled as she turned over an ace against his king. "Nice!"

"Boo," said Corey. He turned over the other cards to see what he was losing. "No, not my ace!"

"Mine," said Christine, scooping up the cards. She looked down for several seconds as she did so.

 _Smash!_

They all flinched and ducked. Christine screamed, and Alice cried out. They all stared in the direction of the noise. Erik had thrown a cup against the wall, near to where they were playing. Water streamed down the plaster and into the pile of glass on the floor.

"Erik!" Christine exclaimed, standing.

Erik stared at her with wide eyes. And she finally saw it there – the cold realization. Undeniable. He knew. He knew, and he looked horrified.

Silence.

Corey said, "I get it."

"What?" asked Alice, slightly out of breath.

"He was watching Christine's reaction, comparing it to Daphne's this morning when he broke the dishes." Corey turned back to him. "See, Erik? She reacts like a human. But you already know that, don't you? I think you've known it all day."

Erik backed up toward the living room. Christine pursued him, their game forgotten. Still, she kept at a distance, not wanting him to feel cornered. "Why?" he whispered. "Why? Why? _Why?_ "

"Because you wouldn't wake up," she said. "I was worried about you. I thought you were dying!"

"Why?"

"Because you wouldn't respond to any-"

" _No!_ Why would you worry?"

She took another step toward him. "Because I care about you! If you'd let me talk to you…"

Erik shook his head, looked away, and muttered. "You can't be here. You cannot possibly be here."

"I am. I found you."

"No," he groaned. " _No!_ " He was gripping his head and shaking it back and forth. "No, no, no."

"Erik," she whispered.

"No!" He stepped back again. "You cannot be. You cannot! Why!?"

She took a deep breath. He knew she was real. Now she just had to get him to calm down. _Where was peace?_ "Erik, why don't you play something on the piano? Anything you want. I'll be quiet. I want to listen to you. Please?" She moved away from the piano so that he could approach it without fear.

Erik stared at her as several agonizing seconds ticked by. "I do not play," he said in a soft voice.

That statement made her heart hurt. "But of course you…Well, you could try."

"I do not play," he dully repeated, looking away.

"Well." She swallowed. "Then I will." As Corey and Alice stared from the kitchen, looking bewildered, she walked toward the piano. She sat at the bench. She knew most of the right hand part to "Unchained Melody," having played it to herself before, singing along and making sure she was hitting the right notes. The piano sounded into the silence as she sloppily played, her heart still hammering in her ears.

She got partway through and noticed that Alice and Corey were looking behind her.

Because Erik was standing directly behind her. Christine took a deep breath. She stopped playing, letting her hand fall into her lap, but made no sudden movements. _Touch me._

Instead, she received a mild insult - "That was rather inadequate."

"Was it? I thought you didn't play." She stood. Erik immediately backed away, but she quickly walked to the couch. She sat and stared at him expectantly, folding her hands in her lap. Erik gazed back for a moment. His shoulders tensing, he turned toward the piano and sat down at the bench. He glanced at her again, probably to make sure she wasn't coming toward him. He turned back toward the piano.

A pause.

He lifted his hands up to the keys and began to play his beautiful and elaborate version of "Unchained Melody." It did start off a little choppy. She sensed that he hadn't played in a while. And even when he was fully into the sweeping melody, when by anyone else's standards the performance might be described as perfect, there was still something slightly off. Something that told her this Erik was not entirely hers.

Still, she swayed and hummed to the music and didn't want it to end. She was scared of what would come afterwards, that he would refuse to talk to her, that the night would end in frustration.

But it did end, of course. The last note played. She could hear Alice and Corey hesitantly clap. Erik turned to look at her. Christine weakly smiled and said, "That was beautiful, Erik. Thank you." Still, as much as she wanted to, she didn't move. He was like a frightened cat. He had to come to her.

Finally, Erik stood. He walked to the middle of the room. In a near monotone, looking down, he asked, "Where did Corey find you?"

"I found him," she replied. "I found his number in Nadir's phone, and I called him. I asked to help you."

" _Why?"_ She started to speak, but he quickly interrupted. "No, no. Do not answer that. I do not want you to talk about _him_."

"About Nadir or Corey?"

"About _him_."

She paused. "You…you mean your real self? Erik…"

" _Stop."_

She frowned but nodded. "Fine. I won't."

"I want…I want to hear about you. Talk about you. Only you."

"Did you hear me when I was talking to you earlier? When you were asleep?"

"Bits and pieces, but I want to hear it again. Tell me everything about you so long as it does not involve _him._ Will you do that?" Erik's voice shook. "I will stay if you do that."

"Then I'll do that."

"Can I sit beside you?" he asked, still refusing to look her in the eye.

She felt a fluttering in her chest. "Of course, Erik. Of course you can sit beside me." He stiffly did so on the other cushion, still keeping some distance. She took a deep breath. If this is how it had to be right now, she would take it. "Once upon a time, I toured with a band…" She began her stories again, all of her adventures as of late. The concerts in strange bars and the different cities. The smelly van, two-star motels, and feasts of fast food. Tom. Charlotte.

Erik only interrupted occasionally. "Why was she so cruel to you?" he asked. "Why would anyone be?"

"Well." Christine ran her hands together. "I think she was jealous."

"Because you sing better?"

"Um." What would upset him and what wouldn't? She wasn't afraid, but she also didn't want him running away again. She'd start with honesty and see where it took her. "I think she was jealous because she liked Tom."

He tensed slightly, but his voice remained steady. "Because Tom liked you?"

"He liked me a little. But I didn't like him in that way. Charlotte shouldn't have been jealous."

Erik nodded and said nothing else.

"I've told you about most of my adventures." She paused. "Oh, I know. The theater opened back up. I have a job there. And there will be lots of new shows. I'm excited about that."

Erik twitched. He squinted for a moment. She wondered what he was thinking. About their time together there?

"Are you okay?" she asked.

"Fine," he replied. "Tell me more about you."

"You want my life story?" she teased.

"That is fine. I like…I like to hear you speak about yourself. I like to hear your voice."

"Can I hold your hand?" she asked, staring at where it lay on the couch.

He murmured, "If you would like."

She reached out to take it and felt instant relief at the contact. She entwined her fingers with his. His hand was limp at first, but then he wrapped it around hers. Warmth enveloped her chest. "I wonder what Corey and Alice are doing…" She turned her head and tried to look back at the kitchen.

Corey heard her. "We're good!" he called. "Chilling back here. Don't worry about us."

"All right," said Christine with a laugh. "Let's see. More about me? Um." She told him what she could without getting into boring details. About growing up in near poverty. Her father's death and its effects on her. A few of her experiences at the theater. Her mother's death - the abbreviated version. "I think that's all I have for now," she murmured.

Erik said, "That is unfortunate. I like your stories."

"Thanks." She leaned back, and they sat there holding hands and staring at the living room, utterly lost.

Corey stepped in soon afterwards. "Hey, you two. What is up?"

Christine smiled. The situation was entirely awkward, and he knew it. "Not much," she said, giving Erik's hand a squeeze.

"I enjoyed listening to your life story," said Corey.

"Great," she wryly replied. "How about if you tell yours now?"

"Sure. I'll spend a whole hour on my Dungeons and Dragons phase." She laughed. "I'm here to tell you that you have fifteen minutes until your break."

"Okay. Thanks."

Corey left.

"Break," stated Erik, looking at her.

"Yes. I have to stretch and drink some water. I'm not in here like everyone else is."

"But you will be back?"

"Yep. For another four hours." She hesitated. "If that's okay. This is your apartment. I guess you should have some say in who comes into it."

"You should come back," he instantly replied. "You are allowed to come into my apartment."

She inwardly grinned. But – dammit. This was all so strange. Trying to navigate it was daunting. "I don't have much more to tell you about me. I could sing?"

"Yes," he agreed. "You could. Or…" Erik gently pulled his hand away. She saw him discreetly touch his cheek. He stood. "I will see you soon." He ran away. A door closed.

She tilted her head. "All right then." Christine got up to find Corey and Alice. They stared at her. "Well. It's good, right?" she asked.

Alice uncomfortably smiled. "Yeah."

"I wonder what he's doing."

Alice glanced back. "I think he went into the bathroom."

Christine was forced to ask, "Do people go to the bathroom here?"

Corey chuckled. "It's optional actually. Whether to keep that life experience. I don't think too many people choose it. I mean, why?"

They laughed together, and Christine left the System on a positive note. She quickly got through her break routine with water and a granola bar. She did feel a weariness in her muscles, though, and knew she had to stop skipping sleep.

When she returned, Erik still hadn't emerged. Now he was in his bedroom, though, and the door was closed.

Christine knocked. "Um. Erik. I'm back. Are you okay?"

"Fine," he curtly replied. "I will be out soon."

She returned to the living room and sat on the couch, giving Corey and Alice a bewildered glance. "I think he's okay."

"If he's not out in thirty minutes, we'll have to check on him," said Alice. "I heard the shower. Corey, you'll have to make sure he's wearing clothes." Corey blinked. Christine blushed.

Finally, the door opened, and Erik emerged. Christine's mouth fell open. He had dressed up in a white button-down shirt and grey trousers, both of which fit him nicely. His hair glistened from the shower, and he had styled away the messiness that came from lying in bed for days. He had also put on a silver watch. After overcoming her shock, she was finally able to say, "You look very nice, Erik." But she kind of wanted to cry - because she understood exactly what he was doing.

"Thank you," he said and seemed to relax a little. Maybe he was relieved that she hadn't gushed over his appearance. "Would you like to go out?"

"Yeah. Definitely." She stood. "But I feel a little underdressed now." She looked down at her jeans and pink shirt. "I don't really have clothes here."

"You look perfect. You are fine." She followed him out the door and gave Corey and Alice one last glance. Corey waved goodbye. Alice shrugged. They could not help her. She was on her own now.

They walked out into the night together. It was warm, and the streetlights were all on, illuminating their path on the sidewalk. She couldn't see anyone else. It was all very surreal. Like one of those dreams about walking down an endless road to nowhere.

"Have you seen everything here?" he asked.

"Some of it," she replied. "Definitely not everything."

"There is not very much to see. It is simple here. Everything looks the same. The houses and buildings have the same design. Even the trees and water. There is little variation."

"Does that get boring?" she asked, perhaps trying to pull him back to her in the slightest of ways.

He shrugged. She reached for his hand, and he let her take it. They walked to the park where she had first arrived, to the lake. The full moon shone from high in the sky. Cattails swayed in the breeze. She stared at their reflections in the water and felt odd.

Erik looked, too.

Then, suddenly, he pulled away. He backed up from the lake and asked, "How long are you staying here?" His voice was soft, but there was an edge. "Or rather - how long are you going to keep returning?"

She was taken off guard. "I'm not sure. I - "

"Not forever, I assume."

"Erik, I don't know if I can. I'm not supposed to be doing this, and someone could find out at any time. I'd get in trouble. Or Corey could lose his job."

"So you only came here to wake me," he stated.

"No! That's not the only reason!" She approached him quickly.

"Then _why_?"

"Well, I came…" She clasped her hands together and looked up at him. His eyes were so sad. _To hell with it._ She leaned forward and threw her arms around his neck. She rested her cheek on his shoulder. He didn't hug her back, but he also didn't try to escape her. He stood there, arms at his sides. Then he leaned into her very slightly. Holding firmly to him, she closed her eyes and whispered into his ear, "I came to take you home, Erik. I want to find the real you. I want you to come back to me. To be with me. That's why I came."

He shuddered and gasped. He ducked away from her embrace, leaving her arms empty as they fell back to her sides.

"Erik -"

" _Stop._ No. That is sick! You cannot possibly want that." He walked away, back toward the road and down the sidewalk.

She followed. "But I do want that!" He didn't reply, so she continued, "Erik, let's say that I got a miracle. Let's say that Corey found a way to put me permanently in the System, and everyone was okay with it."

"That would be perfect," he murmured with longing, shoulders drooping. He stopped and looked at her. "Would you want to? I should not ask. But I cannot help wanting…"

She reached for him, and he let her touch his arm for a moment. "What about you?" she asked. "The people that are messing with your head – any day they could permanently hurt you. They could erase your memories. Of me. Of us. They could kill you! I thought they had." Her voice cracked. "I honestly wondered if you were dead!"

He jerked away from her and continued walking. "Whatever they do, perhaps _he_ deserves it."

She frowned. "If you were happy here, I would leave you alone. But if you're staying in here as some sort of…of self-punishment, then stop -"

"Not punishment. _Containment_."

She finally caught up to him. It took nearly jogging, but she kept up with his quick pace. They were in the restaurant area now. "Erik-"

He said, matter-of-factly, "I have never been able to accept this world entirely. Even the first time. But especially the second time. I attempted to disentangle once. You know why I stopped trying to escape it?" He quit walking so quickly that she stumbled ahead of him.

Christine turned back around and faced him. "Why?"

"Because I remembered what _he_ had done to you," Erik whispered. She froze as he leaned in toward her face and said, "Then I only wanted darkness. I could not exist in either place – this place because I did not believe in it. No matter what they did, I could not believe. And they play with my brain so often that I can barely function here anyway. The other place – because _he_ cannot exist ever again." A pause. " _He_ should be put down like a rabid animal."

"Don't say that," she pled. "Erik, I forgave you -"

"You should not forgive him. You should hate him."

"Well, I don't, and that's not your decision to make!"

He turned away from her and looked at the building next to them. They were standing in front of a nice restaurant, with white table cloths and wine glasses. She probably hadn't been to one this nice since, well…since maybe with Raoul. Erik softly said, "This place is open all night. It is decent, I think. Italian. The best we will get at this hour at least."

She didn't let him escape from their conversation. "I'm not saying it's going to be easy. It's not. I'm just asking you to talk to me so that we can figure this out. But I can't do that if you won't let me speak about the past." He still didn't say anything. "I'm afraid that Hope is going to hurt you. I don't trust her."

"Hope," he murmured. "Hope is…" He tilted his head and looked to the side.

"Hope is what?"

"I forget," he murmured, shaking his head. "Never mind."

"Erik, help me stop them from destroying you." She grabbed his shoulder, trying to get him to face her. "Please!"

He squeezed his eyes shut tightly. He inhaled. He slowly exhaled. He finally stared down at her and stated, in a soft yet almost angry voice, "I want the rest of this night. I do not want to think of any of that for the rest of the night. I want to have a nice dinner with you in _this_ restaurant. With wine and dessert and whatever you want. And to talk about other things. I just want to _be_ here with you like this. I want to look at you across the table and eat with you. Is that acceptable? Is it?"

Her gazed darted toward the restaurant. No one was in there except the staff, who likely weren't real people. She'd probably be safe. And if it meant that much to him… "Does that mean you'll talk to me tomorrow?" she asked.

"Perhaps," he muttered but didn't look very happy about it.

She forced a smile. "Then let's have dinner!" He looked surprised as she took his hand and led him into the restaurant.

They stood in the entryway. An A.I. waiter approached them and greeted, "Good evening. How may I help you?"

She looked up at Erik. He hesitated. Then he said, "Two for dinner, please."

Maybe he had waited his entire life to say that.


	41. Chapter 41

A little fluff for you. A little darkness and angst with the fluff. It's taken a while to get these two reunited, so I figured this chapter was due. E/C have some things to work out before we go back to the plot. Hope you enjoy.

 **Read and Review!**

"What are you getting?" asked Erik. His hands were folded atop the table.

"Let's see. I think I'll…I think I'll have the chicken parmigiana. What about you?" She looked up and smiled, trying not to appear distressed.

"I am going to have the manicotti. Choose an appetizer, too."

"All right. How about the minestrone?"

He tilted his head. "That's all?"

"Yes, I'm good with that. I'm not that fancy." She brushed her hair out of her face and stared at the employees.

"Is something wrong?" he asked.

"No. It's silly."

"I am sure it's not. What is it?"

She shyly smiled. "I was thinking that every restaurant could technically be open all night here. Right? I mean, these employees can't get tired. They don't have lives or families."

Erik chuckled. "That's true." She felt a pang in her heart as she watched his expressions. She'd never been able to see them - his smiles, his laughter. If she did get him back, she hoped that she could convince him to take off his mask sometimes.

She continued that line of conversation. It seemed safe. "People talk about having robots in the future, in the other world, I mean. That's kind of like this. Hm. I bet someone could write a paper about labor ethics or…something."

"You can write the paper."

"Heh. I haven't even gotten my Associate's Degree. I doubt anyone would care what I had to say about it."

"I would care." He frowned. "Why don't you have your degree?"

"Well, my mom died, and then I just, uh, got busy." _Got kidnapped._

"You should definitely finish it."

"Yeah. I will. I need to figure out what I want to do." She changed the topic. "What do you do for work here?"

"I do research. Or I did. I have not been of much use lately, as you've probably been told."

"Research on what?"

Erik shifted. "Psychological illnesses. What causes them."

"Do you enjoy the research?"

"It's somewhat interesting. But I felt as though Hope were always attempting to manipulate my results to her liking."

"Really?"

"Yes. Sometimes certain illnesses are partially the result of environmental variables. She thinks there should be a biological explanation for everything. Perhaps there is. But she should not skew my results to make it so."

"No, she shouldn't. That doesn't sound very ethical." A glass of red wine arrived, as did a bowl of breadsticks. Picking up the glass, she looked at it and asked, "Can people get drunk here?"

"Tipsy, I think." He stared. "Why? Do you want to be drunk?"

"No!" She laughed. "Just wondering." She took a drink of wine. It was kind of bland. Then she bit into a breadstick. She almost spit it out. Christine tried to resist scrunching up her face as she forced the gooey mass down her throat, but Erik noticed her expression.

"What's wrong?" he asked, leaning forward with alarm.

"Nothing."

"Yes, it is. What's wrong? Are the breadsticks stale?" He picked one up and tasted it. "They seem fine to me."

She couldn't hide the truth from him. "Erik, food doesn't taste like anything to me. It's like eating tasteless mush. I think it's because of how I'm hooked up. My senses are dulled."

His face fell. "I wanted this to be nice for you."

"I'm having a great time. Don't worry about it. I can have food any day. I can only see you here and now." She reached across the table, and he took her hand, a flicker of relief in his eyes.

The soup arrived, and that tasted like water with flavorless chunks. At least Erik seemed to enjoy his Caesar salad. He ate it quickly. He still watched her take tiny bites of her food with dismay. "There are other good things here besides restaurants," he said with a note of desperation. "Activities that you will like. Game nights. Volleyball. I could take you to those. And new places open up every month. A petting zoo, I think. A beach. I can take you anywhere."

"That sounds great, Erik. I'd love to see them."

"Do not placate me," he muttered, looking down. "I can tell that you don't want to."

She sighed. "I thought we weren't going to talk about that tonight."

"Fine."

"Are there places here for me to sing?" she asked after a moment.

He perked up. "Yes. This world is severely lacking in artistic talent, musical or otherwise. They will love you. They will be grateful for you."

"That's good to hear."

"Only your speaking voice is a bit off…"

"So is your piano playing," she admitted.

He shrugged. "Perhaps perfection is not everything."

 _You're not quite my Erik. But I know he's in there somewhere. I see glimmers._ "Can you sing here?" she softly asked.

Erik looked down. "I have not tried. I don't think it would sound right."

She kind of didn't think so either.

Christine could finally taste her chicken parmigiana a little bit, especially the tang of the mozzarella. Still, it was probably the worst-tasting meal of her life. Erik continued to enjoy his food, though, and that made her heart happy. She had never seen him eat. He did so carefully, making sure he chewed with his mouth closed. He was clearly conscious of it.

"Why are you staring at me?" he asked, again drawing back. His hand started to go to his face.

She smiled warmly. "I just haven't seen you in so long. It's like a dream. I can't believe I'm here with you."

"Neither can I," he murmured.

"I love being with you, though," she said, trying to break through without scaring him.

"Here is definitely simpler," he stated, and she knew what he meant. He looked at her mostly full plate. "I would offer you dessert, but I don't think you would enjoy it."

"But you should get dessert if you want it, Erik. I don't mind."

"I am full," he replied, placing his napkin on the table. He drew out a leather wallet from his pocket.

"There's money here?" she asked.

"Yes. But it's more for show. Their economical systems are severely lacking in creativity, to be honest." He gave his credit card to one of the waiters. They returned within a minute and gave it back to him.

"Are there tips here?" she asked.

"No. I don't think they need tips, do you?"

"I guess not." Was it possible to feel kind of bad for robot people? "I hope they don't rebel like in all those sci-fi movies my dad used to watch," she whispered.

Again, she got him to smile. "Judging by their current level of intelligence, I doubt that will happen for some time. But I will keep an eye out for you." She smiled back. "Are you ready?"

"Yep," she replied, standing. She walked outside with him into the night. The streets were empty. Everyone else was probably asleep. Erik stood there, staring forward, his arms limp and his shoulders slightly slouched.

On an impulse, she hugged him from the side, wrapping both arms tightly around his midsection. This time, she didn't say anything to upset him. She was quiet, holding on and nervously waiting for his reaction, hoping he wouldn't push her away. Erik turned slowly and put an arm around her. Then the other arm, at first mimicking her movements, and then making the embrace his own. One hand rested on her back, and the other in her hair. She buried her face into his shoulder, and he still didn't smell like anything. But she could feel him. She was so afraid that she was going to lose him again – this time, forever.

"Where else can I take you?" he asked.

"I don't know." _Home. Real home._

"Are you not enjoying yourself? Do you want to leave?"

"I don't want to leave you." Still holding on, she stared up at him. "But it's hard to enjoy myself when I'm afraid you're going to be hurt. Even as we stand here, you're at their mercy, Erik. I can't forget that."

His arms loosened and then dropped from her body. She immediately felt colder. "I will take you to the petting zoo," he said, as though that would solve everything. "Alice was excited about it. Perhaps you will like it, too."

"Is it open at this hour?" she asked, giving up for now.

"No, but that doesn't matter. There aren't police officers that enforce not trespassing into the petting zoo at night."

"Is there any crime here?"

"Not really," Erik murmured.

She let him lead her forward down several blocks. All the restaurants and stores were dark. In the real world, the scene would have been creepy. Here, it was simply ethereal. Their shoulders touched, and Erik eventually took her hand. He led her into an area with several red stables and large rounded bales of hay. She noticed a grey donkey with a black mane behind the first white gate. Beside the donkey was a tan pony with a yellow mane. She reached out and petted the donkey. It stuck its snout out toward her. Christine tilted her head. "These are programs, right?" She looked up at Erik, who stood to the side, arms folded, watching her. "I mean, there's not a donkey out there…"

"In a virtual reality helmet and goggles?" Erik asked with a near grin. "No. No, I don't think so. The donkey is a program."

She petted the pony's head, scratching it behind the ears, and kind of wished that they were real animals. She looked up and saw something wandering toward them on four legs. "Oh! A pig." She walked over and patted him, too. His body was rough and scratchy, and he snorted softly as she rubbed him. It was a little eerie, all these eyes watching her at night. All these programs...It would take time to get used to this world.

Backing up, kind of wanting to leave, Christine said, "My mom had cats that didn't like me, so I've avoided pets for a while. But I want one again someday. Maybe a small dog." She paused. "Have you ever had a pet?"

Erik closed his eyes for a moment. She wondered what he was doing until he said, in a near monotone, "When _he_ was twelve, he lived in an abandoned school bus for about five months. Two cats lived there as well. He fed them his scraps. They attempted to share their mice with him, but he was not interested, as you can imagine. They were like pets."

She stared at him in surprise. He had retrieved Erik's real memories. "An abandoned bus? Erik, I don't know how you survived - "

" _He."_

"How _he_ survived as long as he did. He must have been tough. I don't think I could have done it."

Erik obviously didn't want to stay on that topic. He motioned toward the pony. "Do you want to sit on him? You cannot hurt him here."

She put her hands on her hips. "Are you implying that I would otherwise crush the pony with my weight?"

"Well, he is very small."

She scoffed and said, "No, I'm okay. I don't need to ride him."

"Where would you like to go then?" he asked.

She wanted something simple. "We could go back to the lake and the park. That's where Corey first made me appear. We could hang out there."

"That's fine." He took her hand and led her in that direction. She was grateful to get away from the program animals. "What did you think when you first arrived in SCI?" he asked.

"Um. That this place was beautiful but that it didn't look quite real."

"Hm." Erik glanced upwards. "The sky is correct, I think. They likely use a live feed from the other world to capture the positions of the stars and moon."

"That's cool!"

"Yes. It is." She giggled. "What's so funny?"

"I don't know. I just…Nothing."

There was an ease between them that she wasn't used to. Was that because Erik was less angry here, less on edge, less threatening?

Or was _she_ the difference? After all, she was no longer trapped against her will. She wanted to be there, so she was open to him. She was happy.

Probably both, she decided. They were both different.

Once at the park, they sat on the cool, wet grass together. The moon was still big, and she could see its reflection sparkling in the water. She lay back and stared up at the sky. A fake sky created with real sky. Her back would be damp, but what did it matter here? She couldn't ruin her clothes. Or catch a cold. Or get bitten by a snake. This world was simple and safe.

Still sitting up, Erik stared at her face.

"What?" she asked with a smile. "Is something wrong?"

"No." He turned away.

She sat up. "Tell me," she said. "Whatever it is, it'll be fine."

He visibly swallowed. "I want to kiss you," he whispered.

After overcoming her surprise, she said with certainty, "I'd like that." Erik froze and didn't look at her or acknowledge her response. She scooted closer, pulled herself onto her knees, and leaned toward him. His head finally swerved, and he made eye contact. She waited, giving him a nervous close-lipped smile. Her heart thudded in her chest, and she didn't know what was what or who was who. Or what would cause regrets. She merely accepted the moment for what it was.

After a hesitation, Erik leaned forward and pressed his lips against her. He felt tense, his mouth mashed tightly together, as she tried to kiss him in return. She leaned back slightly. "Relax, Erik," she whispered before he could take her reaction as a rejection. "Relax. Everything is fine. I want you to kiss me." Eyes squeezed closed, he nodded, and she could tell that he was trying to loosen the muscles in his face and neck. She moved forward and was able to give him a proper kiss. His hand came to rest on the back of her head, his fingers curling into her hair. She wrapped her arms around her neck and tilted her head. He finally responded a little, gently, warmly. Their foreheads touched, and she leaned in closer, pulling one arm back so that she could reach toward his face.

Before she could cup his cheek, Erik ended their kiss suddenly, surprising her. "Was that fine?" he asked, his voice strained.

"It was wonderful," she said, leaning back, confused.

"Yes." He nodded to himself. "Yes. That one was not disgusting for you."

"Erik, kissing you was never disgusting." She'd never thought it was possible to be so sad and so happy at the same time.

"Certainly it must have been." He turned back toward the lake, legs straight out in front of him. "You are the most beautiful woman in the entire world. You deserve to kiss someone who doesn't look like a maggot is about to squirm out of his eye socket."

"Don't say that about yourself!"

"I'm not _him_!" he yelled back. "Correct your goddamned pronouns."

Well, that certainly killed the romance. She glared. "Then don't talk about _him_ that way," she ordered. "If you don't want to talk about him tonight – fine. But you can't say terrible things about him."

Erik silently stared forward, jaw clenched. After a second, Christine lay back down and resumed staring at the stars. She sighed and tried to calm down, wishing she didn't feel so panicked. After ten minutes, she asked, "Will you lay here with me?"

To her relief, he slowly did so, reclining next to her onto his back. She turned to lay on her side, head propped up in one hand. Erik stared upwards. "I'm sorry I got angry," she said. "But I…Erik, do you remember why you woke up?"

A pause. "No. Only the sound of your lovely voice. Why?"

"Nothing. Never mind."

"Did you say something specific?"

"Yes. But I'd rather tell _him_ what it was."

"You won't ever see him again." Erik's tone left little room for argument.

Her heart hurt, but she said nothing more about it. They lay there together, trapped in their odd little fantasy. Eventually, she rolled to be right beside him, and he curved and arm around her waist as she rested her head on his shoulder. A part of her didn't want to face what came next. The other part of her was desperate to get there. "I have to go soon, Erik," she said. "I had a great time with you tonight."

"Will you be back again?" She heard a hopeful note in his voice.

"Yep. We'll talk tomorrow?"

"If we must…"

"We must."

* * *

Green eyes blankly stared forward.

He was probably about thirty or thirty-five. Male. Convicted of two murders during an armed robbery. Sentenced to die.

He was strapped down into the bed. His head was shaved, and Hope could see the tiny stitches on the sides of his skull.

"Show me," Hope said to Daniel.

Daniel nodded and looked down at his clipboard. He began in a commanding voice, "What is your name?"

"David Smith," Patient D replied in a soft monotone, gazed still fixed in front of him.

"Good," said Daniel. He turned to Hope. "His real name was Jeff Porter." Daniel turned back to the patient. "Where were you born?"

"Toronto," Patient D dully replied.

"He was born in Chicago," said Daniel with satisfaction. "What's your occupation?"

"Physical therapist."

Daniel chuckled. "He did retail in his teens. Then he was in and out of jail for ten years."

Hope clapped her hands together twice. "This is amazing! If only he seemed more human and a little less…robotic."

"It's something to work on," Daniel replied. "It'll take time to perfect the technique."

"Keep working on it," she commanded. "You can play around with Patient D some more. When he's beyond repair, Patient E should be here."

"Speaking of Patient _E_ ," Daniel slowly began, "I have some other news. Erik perked up in the System. He's been moving around, talking. Complete turnaround."

Hope squinted. "Why do you think that is?"

"No idea. Maybe I finally got his chemical balance right? Maybe his brain needed time to adjust. Should I look into it more?"

Hope hesitated. "No. I want you to focus on this operation for now. Let's see if we can perfect it."

Daniel shrugged. "All right. But that'll take my focus away from Nicholas's treatment."

Hope slowly reached out a hand and stroked Patient D's head. He didn't respond and only stared forward, blinking every so often. "I don't know about that," she murmured.

* * *

Going home that night, Christine felt a very extreme mixture of melancholy and giddiness, to the point where her mind felt a little unstable. She had been with her Erik.

But not quite.

She had kissed him and touched him.

But not quite.

After getting some well-needed sleep, she planned their conversation very carefully. What she would ask him. What she wouldn't. How to phrase her questions. How to not accuse. This was an information gathering quest, not a trial. This was done out of love.

She was nervous as she entered his apartment the next evening. She didn't see Erik at first and worried that he had run. Corey stepped in behind her. Erik came out of his room, dressed in dark blue jeans and a black long-sleeved shirt. She ran up to him for a hug. Erik gently embraced her. She felt relief.

Erik spoke to Corey. "I asked Alice for privacy today. Christine wants to talk. So I will talk to her."

She noticed how Erik was able to make a tense yet calm request of another person, another man. Without a threat or intimidation.

"Sounds good," said Corey after only a brief hesitation. "I'll see you at your break, Christine."

"Thanks, Corey."

He left, and they were alone.

"Do you want anything to drink?" asked Erik. She followed him into the kitchen. "I don't have much. Water and soda."

Christine stared into his bare refrigerator. "I think I'm okay."

"Where do you want to talk?"

"The living room is fine."

Erik led her back in there. She sat on the couch. To her dismay, Erik sat on the floor and leaned against the base of the sofa. "Why don't you get up here?" she asked, patting the place next to her.

"I don't want to."

"Okay." She would pick her battles carefully.

 _Silence._

"Aren't you going to ask questions?" asked Erik, sounding agitated.

"Yeah." _All right. You can do this. Let's start with here._ "Um. So first, Alice said she thought that you were trying to…to harm yourself here. Were you?"

Erik didn't sound that upset as he replied, "I wanted out. They would not leave my brain alone. They kept poking at it, changing it. I could not think well, but I knew that this was not a real world. I felt as though I were losing my mind, and I wanted out."

"But yesterday you said that you wanted to stay here with me."

Erik exhaled. "If you are here, I will try to survive for as long as I can. Just to see you." He looked back at her. "But you do not want to stay here, do you?"

"I've told you, Erik. I don't know if it's even possible. And everything doesn't feel quite right. When I touch you, it's numbed. When we kissed, I can't feel it like I want to."

"But what if it did feel right? What if they improved your connection? What if I were not in danger? What if they let you stay? Would you want to stay here with me?"

She thought about this. "Before I answer that, I want to talk to you. I want to see if that…nearly impossible scenario is really our only option."

"It is."

"But you'll talk to me?"

"I said I would."

"Thank you." _Onto the harder part._ "I spoke to Nadir about you."

"About _him_ ," Erik firmly corrected. "Nadir does not know me."

"Fine. Him. There was a lot to take in. But one thing was very clear." She nervously wrung her hands together. "That drug is terrible. Rosy or whatever it's called. He can't make good decisions while on it. He's dangerous. He can't be on it." She stared at the back of his head and waited.

Erik said, "That was not a question."

"Well." She swallowed. "From what Nadir said, you… _he_ was able to stay off the drug for many years. And then he got off it again while he was with me, right? He told me that, and I believe him. The question is - can he stay off it forever?"

"What does it matter now?" asked Erik. "I have no desire for it. I had not even thought of it until now."

"It matters to me."

Erik shrugged. "Fine. I have to find those memories." He bowed his head and closed his eyes.

She waited for what felt like forever.

"He…he took the red pills to escape his reality," Erik finally murmured. "They allowed him to escape the truth of how horrible he was."

"But can he stay off of them?"

"He is capable. As you said, he has done so. But it does not matter."

With hope, she replied, "Yes, it matters. Why wouldn't it?"

"Because he is still a monster without them," Erik nearly snapped. "The building…the bomb vest…all of that…he was not under the influence of the pills at that time. That was entirely the monster. Not the amphetamine."

Of course she remembered that awful day. She'd never forget it. But she also remembered that – "He chose not to."

"Only because you said that you would marry him," Erik replied in a low voice. He softly added, almost to himself, "I don't why you are here right now. I don't…"

"He still chose not to. And then he chose to not marry me. He let me go. Raoul is alive. He sentenced himself to this place, which was essentially death." She wiped a tear away. "When he doesn't take the pills, he's capable of making good decisions. He can learn to keep making them. I believe that."

"I do not."

She shook her head. "Why'd he let me go then? Tell me why. Remember that."

"Because you were kind and beautiful. And he was evil and hideous. And he finally saw that. He knew that he did not deserve you."

She gently replied, "I think the right way to put it is that he realized he'd done something wrong. And fixed it in the best way he knew how."

"He is still disgusting!" Erik snapped, drawing his knees up to his chest. "Do you know why he was addicted to those pills in the first place?"

She hesitated. "Because his awful boss wanted to control him."

"That was merely a piece of it."

"He was tortured," she said, her voice trembling. "And then given the pills so that he could be controlled."

"No, you don't quite understand. Because Nadir does not know this part," Erik whispered. "After the torture was over, they brought _him_ into a room. A beautiful room with a giant comfortable bed, covered by a bedspread made of grey fur. It had a fireplace and an enormous round bathtub, a window overlooking the mountains. The master bedroom of a mansion. There was a white screen on the wall. Almost as large as a movie screen. When _he_ awoke, a film began to play. They made _him_ view the worst of the torture." Christine's fingers dug into the couch. "They made _him_ watch as that ugly corpse struggled and begged for the torment to end. They made _him_ watch his abject humiliation and agony for hours upon hours. But - it was too much. They went too far. It pushed _him_ over the edge, and he quit responding to any sort of stimulus. So the rosy red pills? They gave _him_ the pills so that _he_ would wake up. And be numb. Numb and awake."

"Erik…"

Erik turned toward her. His face was pale, and she could see her reflection in his dark, haunted eyes. "If you could see what he looked like in that film, his squirming repulsive self…his begging disgusting self…you would want him dead forever, too."

"Oh, Erik," she whispered. "That's just not true. That's the last thing I would want. All I'd want to do is rescue him. Like I'm trying to do right now." She reached for him.

Erik flinched away from her hand. He turned back around. "You have more questions?"

"Yes. But they can wait. We can do something else."

"No. Let's get this over with."


	42. Chapter 42

The website has been having some issues lately, and I'm not sure that everyone received a story alert last time. Please check that you read the chapter before this one.

Here's a somewhat transitional chapter as we head back toward the plot. Thank you for all your great comments.

 **Read and Review!**

Without making Erik go into too many details, she verified some of the things that Nadir had told her, regarding how he had survived his youth and become involved in less ethical activities. None of it was really a surprise by now. Erik had started committing crimes so that he didn't starve to death. He had continued down that path because it was all he knew.

But there was one really bad thing Christine still wanted to know.

And - there wasn't a nice way to ask about it.

"I have a question about the…the correctional officers," she shakily began. He didn't say anything. "I understand that _he_ didn't want to go to prison. And I imagine that, when he attempted to escape, they tried to…to shoot him. So I can see how that situation deteriorated. But - why did he torture that one officer?"

Erik immediately replied, "Because he is a monster."

"Just for the...fun of it?"

"Likely."

She nodded and was going to leave it at that. She wasn't going to yell at him over the past, disturbing as it was. Christine took a deep breath and pondered it all. She hadn't really learned anything worse than what she already knew. Aside from more details concerning the torture, everything that Nadir had said had been accurate. And -

"Electricity," Erik murmured.

She looked up. "What?"

"Stun gun," he corrected. "That officer enjoyed using the device on him. The officer would bring people up to the hospital room, to laugh and to hurt him. So _he_ got revenge…"

Her face fell as this information sank in. Erik's retribution was still sickly extreme. But she also understood why he would have been hypersensitive to any form of torture. He wouldn't react well.

She leaned back onto the couch cushion, already exhausted.

Erik was staring at the floor. "Are you going to leave now?" he softly asked. "Have you heard enough?"

"I'm not going to leave," she stated. "I see someone who was abused and who learned to hurt back. But one thing is still clear. He has to stay off that drug. Everything was calm before then."

"Yes, everything was calm," Erik agreed. "And _he_ did nothing except sit in darkness at that theater, occasionally venturing out to watch the performances. There was no point to his life. He should have been dead, and then everything would have _stayed_ calm."

"But he wouldn't be sitting in darkness by himself anymore. I would be there."

"No."

"Why?" she desperately asked. "You don't think that he can stay off the drug?"

"It is not that."

"Then why?"

"It is for your sake," Erik rasped, turning to face her. "Don't you understand? He will _cling_ to you forever if you make that offer. Because you are all he will live for. He is sick, and he will cling to you. A parasite."

She scooted off the couch, lowered herself to the floor, and sat beside him. She said, "I'm scared of the drug. And I'm scared that he might not know how to interact with the world and be miserable because of it. But I'm not scared of that. I'm not scared of him loving me."

"You should be. All he does is take from you. He drains the life from you."

"He inspired me to sing again."

"I should kill _him_ ," Erik whispered.

"That I'll never forgive." Still, she felt the sting of uncertainty. It wasn't that she didn't think he could change. She had already seen him change. But a part of her wondered if he had been through too much, done too much, to ever be happy out there. Could he be? She reached out and gently took his hand.

Erik asked, "What exactly was your plan if he had done something that you could not forgive? What if he had been more horrible than you had thought? Would you have left?"

"No."

"Would you have planned to stay here with me forever?" he hopefully asked.

"Probably not." He looked confused. "My Plan B…" She hesitated.

"Say it," he murmured.

"Well, it dawned on me that what separates you from him is probably partly medication. Is that right?" Erik just stared at her. "So…Erik, it's possible to have medication without dooming yourself to virtual reality. There's a middle ground." He tilted his head. She almost prepared for anger. But Erik started to laugh and shake his head. "What? What's funny about that?"

"All you are asking him to do is pop some pharmaceuticals? That is it?"

"It was only a possibility. I want to get you home. I'm willing to explore the options."

"Oh," Erik muttered. "He shouldn't be allowed near you. You are too sweet and lovely. I am protecting you from him."

She half-glared. "If I'd wanted Raoul, I would have gone with him."

He started and glared back. "So you do have a very mean side, Ms. Daae." He closed his eyes for a moment. "I remember him. I thought you would still be with him, married to him even."

"I broke up with him a long time ago. And I want my Erik back." As Erik continued to appear despondent, she said, "How about this? Help me find you. Let me at least rescue you from Hope. And, if I get you out and you're still not happy, then I will search the world for a safer way to put you back here. Can't you at least help me make sure you're safe? I mean, would you really rather die than be back there with me? You can answer honestly. Look me in the eyes and say that. Say you'd rather die in here than be with me out there. Say it." It would be devastating, but at least she would know. "Say it." Her voice cracked.

Erik gazed into her eyes and said, "I cannot say that. Of course it is not true. But _he_ should not be near you again. I hear him in the back of my brain. He can hear you, you know?" Her heart beat a little faster at this confession. "And he wants what you offer so desperately that he cannot resist. So I keep him away…"

"I'm glad he can hear me," she replied with a touch of anger. "I hope he knows how much I want him." Erik pulled his hand away. She was going to continue the argument but thought better of it. Instead she leaned forward and embraced his limp body. It was time for a break. They both needed it, before he completely withdrew into himself and she became too upset. "Erik, let's go do something together. Let's have another date."

He blinked. "You want to go out with me?"

"I'd love to. Do you have any ideas?"

"I had not thought past this conversation. I thought you would leave." He glanced at the piano. "Would you like to sing?"

"I would!"

"Would you like to sing for an audience?"

"Um. I'm not sure that's the best idea. No one is supposed to notice me. I'd need a pretty good disguise." She touched her throat. "And a lot of practice. I sound strange here."

"Oh. I know of a bar with a piano. I thought it might be an opportunity to perform in public. But maybe you are right…"

She quickly understood what he wanted. Him playing and her singing in front of others – without fear or shame. "Well," she said. "I'm sure someone could help me with a disguise. I'll ask Corey during my break. Let's practice."

"Really?"

She smiled. "Yeah."

Erik stood and slowly made his way to the piano. She waited beside him, placing a hand on his shoulder as he began to play.

For now, music was the closest she would get to home.

* * *

Thoughts had bubbled in the back of Hope's brain all day. New possibilities. New ideas.

What if she could keep her son near her? What if she didn't have to condemn him to a virtual reality system? Was it really that simple?

Of course, she would have to take Nicholas far away. Somewhere quiet and foreign where no one knew them. But that wouldn't be so difficult. In fact, she'd already started making progress with those plans.

Near the evening, Hope approached her son. "How are you?" she gently asked.

"Bored," he replied, glancing away from the television. A gameshow was on. "Tired of reruns. And yourself?"

"Not bored," she said. "I've had a better day."

"When are you going to put me back in that place?" he asked. "I promise I won't be bad this time. I'll be good."

"Your promises don't mean much, Nicholas. And I don't know if you will be going back."

"What do you mean? I thought that was the entire point of this whole arrangement. Are you sending me back to prison already?" Nick darkly laughed. "Gee, Mom. You certainly give up fast."

"I'm not sending you back to prison. Daniel has been working on a new technique. It's possible that he can change your brain with surgery. But you would be out here with me, so I could see you every day. Wouldn't that be nice?" She slowly smiled.

But Nicholas didn't look happy. He leaned back and angrily asked, "What the hell are you talking about?"

"Just as I said. Daniel may be able to fix your mind, change your memories and alter your personality. Just enough to make you a better person. All with a simple surgery."

"Don't you let that little freak touch me!" he snapped.

She held out her hands. "I'm left with limited options."

"I'd rather go back to prison than have a lobotomy!"

"It's not a lobotomy. You're making this a much bigger deal than it is. Daniel will only do a few minor alterations, and you could be a happy and healthier human being."

"Fuck that!" he spat. "Put me back in SCI. I'll go there instead. I'll be good this time. Do that, Mom. Do that, okay?"

"I don't know, Nicholas. I think I'd rather have you out here anyway." She reached out to touch his hair. "I'll miss you."

He flinched away from her. "No!" he growled. He pulled at his bindings and shouted, "No, no, no, no, no, no, no! Put me back in SCI!"

Hope sighed and closed her eyes. "We'll see," she murmured. "Now calm down."

"No, no, no, no. No! No! No! _NO!_ "

"For God's sake." She shook her head as she turned to leave. "Why must you always make things so hard on yourself?"

"No, no, no, no, no…"

His voice followed her down the hall as she walked away.

* * *

They practiced for the next two hours. She could tell by Erik's wrinkled brow that he wasn't completely satisfied by her voice. They were both off, but that didn't mean they weren't good. They just weren't spectacular.

Still, she could also tell that their rehearsal relaxed Erik. The tension faded from his features, and he no longer looked trapped. When she wrapped an arm around the front of his neck, he leaned back against her chest with a relieved sigh. And she wished…

She wished that even the 'good' moments didn't sting.

Toward the end, before her break, Erik said, "I think that is the best we're going to get tonight."

"You didn't give me many corrections," she replied.

"I can't think of them here. You sound wonderful."

She leaned down and kissed his cheek. "I miss all that constructive criticism."

"Really?"

"No. But it was good for me. Like broccoli. It made me a better singer."

Erik shook his head. "I think _he_ made you crazy."

"Thanks," she wryly replied. But teasing was good. It meant he trusted her more.

When Christine had her break, she told Corey their plans. "Can you disguise me in there?" she asked.

"Yeah," said Corey. "I think I can handle that. On one condition."

"What?"

"I want to hear you two."

"All right," she said with a shy smile. "We're not at our best, though. It could be a disaster."

Corey laughed. "Trust me. You guys will still be the most talented musicians in SCI."

Once they were back, Corey managed to find another brunette wig. They decided that she didn't need glasses. Alice gave her a black skirt and a yellow blouse that nearly fit, so Christine wasn't forced to wear the same clothes that she'd had on for days. After adding some blush and pink lipstick, Christine decided that it was good enough. No one would recognize her.

When she returned, she told Erik, "Well, I know we at least have an audience of two." She had already changed into her outfit and wig, and he stared at her. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing." He stood. "We should go before it's too late."

"Let's do it."

Corey and Alice were waiting outside. They all walked in near silence to the piano bar. The building was about three quarters full of people chatting and drinking. The piano sat empty, though. Christine's stomach nervously turned. "I haven't performed in front of anyone in a while," she whispered as Erik took a seat at the bench.

"You will be fine," he replied, his focus on the keys. He took a deep breath.

It sadly dawned on her that this might be their only chance to ever perform live together. With Erik's record, he probably could never be in front of an audience. Society might look past his disfigurement. They wouldn't look past his crimes.

The first notes played, and Christine prepared herself, standing up straight and focusing on the music instead of their circumstances. Everyone in the bar stopped talking and stared at them, appearing interested. Someone cheered in the back. She sang "Unchained Melody" first. She had also told him some of the songs that she'd sung with the band, and Erik was easily able to play the accompaniment. They received lots of applause. The people here were obviously hungry for live music.

To her surprise, Erik played the first notes of _his_ song. She started and whispered, "Are you sure?"

"Yes," he stated. "Sing."

Taken off guard, it took her a moment to adjust. She didn't have time to think about what it meant. She began to the best of her ability, trying to wind her strange voice around the notes with some success. But it was Erik whom she focused on, whom everyone focused on. She heard the change. The sudden vibrancy. The darkness. The edge. She nearly stopped singing as she stared down at him with wide eyes. He must have noticed the hesitancy in her voice. "Sing," he said again without looking up.

She continued, even though she wanted to stop and reach out to him during that very delicate moment. Then the song ended. Cheers and applause surrounded them, but Christine barely heard it.

"Erik?" she whispered, leaning down. "Are you okay? That was amazing." _Who are you?_

"They are all staring at us," he stated in a low voice, shoulders tense.

She glanced up and then back at him. "That's because they loved our performance. They're happy. They're smiling."

"They would not be in the other place," he grimly replied. "They would not be smiling." He swallowed. "I remembered what it was to share music with you. You were always so sad, Christine. But, when there was music, you were less miserable. That was the only time you ever looked happy with…"

"Erik, I'm not miserable now," she replied. "And I won't be there. I promise." She leaned down and gave him a kiss on the cheek. That made everyone cheer even louder. There were a couple of whistles. She felt her face turn red. "Do you want to play for them some more? Without me singing?"

Erik looked up. "I want to leave. Give me a moment." Before she could say anything, he got up and walked toward Corey. People gave Erik pats on the back and smiles as he passed. He ignored them and had a brief conversation with Corey. Corey looked reluctant. Erik persisted. Corey finally seemed to agree to something. Erik returned.

"What just happened?" she asked.

"You will see. Let's go."

He took her hand, and they quickly left the bar together. The noise and light faded into the background, and they returned to their familiar cocoon of only the two of them in the darkness. After a few minutes, she realized that they were heading back to the mountain. They climbed up there together. Erik walked at a faster pace, but she was able to keep up, not tiring easily in the System. At the top, he took a seat by the stream, and she sat next to him. She could hear rustling in the trees but felt no fear. Soon they lay there together, as they had at the park. The sound of the trickling water was calming.

In the silence, she dared to say, "When you were playing the piano, I noticed a change. What was that?"

"He is a better musician."

"So you – what? Let him, like, take over for a moment?"

"Somewhat."

"Is it possible for me to speak to him?" she hopefully asked.

"No. I don't want to let it go that far." A pause. "I don't want to be a nightmare."

She knew he wasn't only referring to that evening. "You won't be a nightmare if you stay off those pills."

"What if he stays off the pills but lies uselessly in the dark?"

"Then I'll lie next to him until he's ready to get up. Besides, I look forward to lying next to him - long mornings in bed together, kissing, touching each other…" Her hand gently rubbed his chest.

He flinched. "You can't possibly mean _that_."

"I absolutely do." She buried her face into his neck. "I want him."

"You should sleep," he said with a quiver in his voice. "You have a while up here."

"Only a couple of hours."

"No. I asked Corey to let you stay later. You wanted to see the sunrise."

"Oh, Erik…Thank you."

With tears in her eyes, she eventually fell asleep. It was surprisingly warm up there, and she slept in his arms.

Eventually, he woke her. She stood and looked over the edge of the cliff, and she saw her first SCI sunrise. A bright glowing ball slowly rose up over the horizon, lighting up the land and town, turning the darkness into blues and greens.

"What do you think?" he asked, coming to stand beside her.

"Not quite real," she replied as their faces were illuminated. "Pretty. Very orange. But not quite real. More like a painting."

"You can stare at it for a long time," he said. "And it won't hurt your eyes."

"I still want the real sunrise," she stated.

She pressed her lips against his before she disappeared.

* * *

Sometimes Hope felt as though the entire universe were working against her. She'd felt like that for some time now.

Not forever. The first several decades of her life had gone smoothly. A fairly happy childhood, although her father had been a workaholic. Many successful university semesters, including a study abroad program in Spain. A loving and attentive husband. A thriving career. A comfortable life.

They had been so ready for a child. Everything was in place. They could give him the best schools, lessons of all kinds, vacations overseas.

But Nicholas hadn't wanted any of it.

Nicholas wanted what she couldn't give. Lawlessness. Chaos. Things she couldn't quite understand or define.

Now just when she thought she might have the key to fixing him, that was yanked away, too.

"I have bad news," Hope told Daniel two days later. "I reported your results regarding Patient D. They were excited. But - they're holding off on sending Patient E."

"Why?" he asked.

"They want to evaluate their next move."

Daniel frowned. "I'm sure they're deciding on how far down this ethical black hole they want to go."

"Indeed." Hope found herself more tired than angry.

Daniel shrugged. "Well, whatever. I've done all I can do with D. I can't increase his intelligence."

Hope nodded. "We'll return to our original studies for the time being. If Erik is doing better, try to apply that to Nicholas. We can give that a second go. Nick is eager for another chance." She smiled fondly to herself.

"Yeah. Another chance to screw everything up." Hope glared. Daniel shrugged. "I'll work on it. What do I do with Patient D?"

"If you can't use him anymore, then dispose of him."

"What? Kill him?" Hope nodded once. "Well, that's fucked up."

"Patients A through C are dead," she calmly replied.

"Yeah. They died during my experimental treatments. They died in the name of science. I didn't deliberately murder them. Can't we make Patient D a janitor here or something?"

"No, Daniel. Would you do your damned job and stop complaining? They're all death row inmates. It was inevitable."

"I'm going to do my damned job," he replied. "I'll start working on Nicholas's brain again. Meanwhile, you do what you want with Patient D."

"Daniel…"

"No, _Isabel._ And don't threaten me. If anyone finds out about all this, we'll both be screwed. So maybe you should get your hands a little dirty, too, in case the investigative reporters ever discover this place. You see where I'm going with this? I don't exactly trust you."

She shook her head and rolled her eyes. "Fine, Daniel. Are you done now? I'll handle D." That wasn't really her specialty, but she'd do it.

"Thank you. I'll start examining Nicholas again." He left.

It dawned on Hope that, without a Patient E, she only had one more test subject to try the operation on before Nicholas. She had Erik. But was one more try really good enough? She'd prefer ten more tries at least.

When she saw Nicholas, he again begged to be allowed into SCI one more time - "I'll be so good, Mom. I'll be best friends with everyone. I'll be so good for you. Please let me back in."

It was very hard to say "no" to him. She had never been very good at it. He had never really asked for much as a child, always keeping to himself and his computer. So when Nick did want something, she liked to give it to him. She liked to make her little boy happy.

* * *

To her relief, Alice had slowly been absolved of the complete responsibility for Erik's well-being. Christine wanted that responsibility, and Alice was happy to give it to her. Because…well…Erik needed more than a bunch of people who felt sorry for him.

Alice still checked on him once a day, right after work, a couple of hours before Christine arrived. This time, he was sitting at the kitchen table. A notebook and pen were next to him. His head was in his hands.

Alice stared. "Hey," she said. "Are you okay?"

"Fine."

"What are you doing?"

He hesitated and then replied, "Christine wants me to remember where the location of…"

"Your body is?"

"I am not him!"

Christine had told Corey about this, how Erik considered himself to be two separate people. Corey had told Alice. Neither of them really knew what to think, but Alice wasn't about to argue with Erik. "All right. Do you remember anything?"

"I can see an airplane. The inside of a plane. It was heading south. There were trees. A river."

"That's a start." She took a seat across from him. "Do you think the plane landed in the U.S.?"

"I think so."

"Was the air dry or humid?"

"M. Dry, I think. Warmer."

She nodded. "So maybe the Southwest?"

"Perhaps. But what good does that do? There would still be hundreds of miles to search."

"Like I said, it's a start. Corey is looking for information, too. He's snooping around the building, trying to find some communication between SCI and wherever Hope is. Maybe he'll find something. Do you remember what the layout of the facility looked like?"

Erik picked up his pen and wrote something down. "A little. It was small, like the size of a house."

"That's good. It'll be easier to navigate."

"I guess so." After a moment, Erik asked, "You want Christine to find me?"

"Of course I do. Don't you?"

Erik didn't say anything. He stared at the table with a troubled expression.

Alice continued, "You don't seem all that happy here."

Redirecting the conversation, Erik replied, "I remember you out there. _He_ wasn't very nice to you, was he? I apologize for his behavior."

"Thanks. That's nice to hear."

"You told him that he should not be around her. Christine, I mean."

Alice tried to think back to that conversation. "I thought you could be happy here. I was wrong."

"But that does not change what you said regarding her, does it?"

"Um. I'm pretty sure I said that you shouldn't kidnap people. Now she's here because she wants to be." He didn't say anything. "Erik, don't you want to go back with her?"

"Only…" He folded his arms against his chest. "Only if I do not make her miserable."

Alice didn't quite know what to say to that. Except - "There are some obvious things you can do."

"Yes." His eyes widened, and he grabbed his pen. "Yes. Tell me what I should do."

"Well." She hadn't really prepared for a Healthy Relationships 101 class. She hadn't even been in that many relationships. "Like don't hold her against her will…try to control her… _please_ don't threaten her or anyone she cares about…" Erik frowned. "What's wrong?"

"I already know those things," he replied. " _He_ doesn't, I guess." Erik touched his head. "Why do I know these things and he doesn't? Medication?"

"God, Erik. I don't know. That is not my area of study. I'm sorry."

Erik's hands curled into fists. "I hate him for being such a goddamned disaster."

"It sounds like he's been through a lot." Alice uncomfortably asked, "Are you only thinking about going back because Christine wants you to?"

"No," he immediately replied. "I want her. I think of her constantly, dream about her. Wait for her all day. She makes me feel alive. But - I don't want _him_ to destroy her. I cannot let him do that." Erik suddenly stood. "I think I need to take a walk, clear my head."

"All right." Alice stood, too, wishing she had more advice to offer. She'd have to think about it. "I'll go with you down the street a ways. And then head home. Christine should be here soon."

Even the mere mention of her name made Erik's face light up slightly.

It was sunny and warm outside, typical SCI weather. They walked in silence, and she could tell that Erik was very deep in thought.

That's why Alice saw him first. Due to the attempted erasure of her memory, it took her a moment to recognize him. She stopped walking as her mouth fell open with horror. Erik glanced at her face. "What's wrong?" Then he followed her gaze.

Across the street, Ben smiled widely and waved. "Hi, guys!"

"Shit," muttered Alice, turning around. "Let's go back inside. I'll call someone."

"Who is that?" Erik asked.

"You don't remember him? It's Ben. He's crazy. He tried to -"

"Yes," Erik whispered. "Now I remember. I remember him." He stepped forward. "I am going to confront him."

"What? Erik - "

"Will you go back to my apartment and wait for Christine? Bring her inside quickly. I don't want him to see her." There was a dangerous glint in his eyes. "It's time to find out what this idiot wants."


	43. Chapter 43

Thank you all for your lovely comments. We should be heading into the final stretch here. This was, at times, an odd chapter to write. I hope it's an intriguing read.

 **Read and Review!**

Ben's smile widened as Erik approached him. "Hey there," Ben said. "How are -"

Erik grabbed him by the front of the shirt, yanking Ben off balance. They were about the same height. Erik brought his face close to Ben's. "What the hell do you want?" he growled, floating between his selves. He tried not to think of himself at all.

Unfazed, Ben said, "I want to talk to you."

"Who are you?!"

"Heh. If you don't know the answer to that, I'm not going to get into it right now. Why muddy the waters of potential friendship?"

Erik sneered. "I don't think we are going to be very good friends." He briefly searched his memories but couldn't come up with any answers to Ben's identity.

"Aw," mocked Ben. "That's cynical."

"What do you want?" Erik repeated. "You're not going to drive me insane again."

"So I noticed," said Ben, blinking. "You're looking livelier these days. Why's that?" Erik glared. "Doesn't matter. I'm glad. Why don't we get a drink?"

Erik tightened his grip on Ben's shirt. "Why should I? I should -"

"Should what?" asked Ben with half a smile. "Kill me? You can't do anything here. Neither can I. Let's not screw around. I think you should listen to what I have to say. I think you'll find it informative."

Erik hesitated. As much as he hated the moron, he sensed that Ben did know something – something that went beyond this world. "Fine. Talk."

"Let's get a drink."

" _Fine."_ Erik released him. It would be best to lead Ben far away from his apartment. Christine was coming. _Christine._ She had to be protected at all costs. He began walking toward the bar.

Ben followed, glancing from side to side. "This place. What the hell, right? It's so damned wholesome."

Erik didn't reply. He felt unnerved. There was a danger in the situation that was muffled by the apparent safety of SCI.

They soon entered the piano bar. It was half empty, and no one looked twice at them, two young men out for a drink. They took a seat at the counter. Before Erik could say anything, Ben ordered them both beers. "On me," said Ben. "Let's start over."

"Start talking."

"Fine. First, I know who you are. I know you're a lot prettier right now than in the real world. Do you know who you are?"

"Yes. How do you know me?"

"Mostly from the news. You were very prolific, weren't you?" Ben smirked. "But, more importantly, you and I are in the same place. Physically. The same facility. They fixed you, apparently. They want to fix me, too."

That didn't really surprise him. Ben seemed like he needed to be fixed. "Why? What have you done?"

"I'm not getting into that yet. It's not important. Here's what is important." Ben leaned in and nearly whispered, "I haven't progressed like they wanted." Ben tapped his head with his knuckles. "I won't let them in. So Daniel and, uh, Hope are leaning toward operating on me. Practically lobotomizing me. I'm fucked."

"Why should I care?" asked Erik.

"Heh. Because, my ugly friend, they'll experiment on you first. You're the lab rat. If I don't act like an angel, we'll both become drooling vegetables. They'll cut into your brain. And then into mine."

Erik's heart beat faster as this news sank in. While he didn't trust Ben, he did sense that the information could be true. Maybe his real self could still vaguely hear conversations on the other side. "What do you want?" Erik warily asked.

"Isn't it obvious? We're both smarter than ninety-nine point nine percent of the scourge of humanity. I want us to help each other. We need to think of a plan. To get out of here. And then out of there."

Erik stared into those icy green eyes. "And then what?"

"And then – whatever. Maybe we can have some fun." Ben licked his lips. "But that's for later."

Erik could feel his real self quickly analyzing the situation - _Proceed carefully. Let him lead for now. Do not give him ideas._ "What the hell do you think we're going to do?" Erik asked. "We are trapped in this world and physically restrained in the other."

"Ah, Erik. I know you're smarter than that. We'll think of something." Ben looped an arm around his neck. Erik flinched as Ben whispered in his ear. "Did you know that I've searched for someone like you my entire life? I can't wait to meet you out there."

Erik hopped off the stool and backed away from him. "What makes you think I want anything to do with you?" he asked, hands clenching into fists.

Ben released a choppy, wide-mouthed laugh. "You're such a pussy here. Don't you want my help? Or are you going to let them slice into your head and cut you up like a block of cheese?"

"You have provided no help. Do you know where we are? Can you give me information about our location? Or do you expect me to save your ass while you sit there grinning like an idiot?"

"We're in Texas," said Ben with a shrug. "I know that."

"Where in Texas?" he asked, losing patience. "That's the second largest goddamned state in the country."

"Yes," Ben agreed, staring into space for a moment. "Yes. It is. Alaska is bigger, isn't it?" Ben practically giggled. "Juneau what the capital of Alaska is?"

While Erik's current self stared in disbelief, his real self kicked in for a moment, following Ben down the path of absurdity, manipulating it into an interrogation. "Have you ever been to Alaska, Benjamin?"

Ben almost looked sad. "Unfortunately, no. I haven't seen too much of the world."

"That's a pity. Why not?"

"Well," said Ben with a shrug. "Prisons tend to lack study abroad programs."

Erik laughed – not because he found Ben funny, but because he had managed to extract some information. "How long was your sentence?"

"Life," said Ben with a touch of pride. "You ever been?"

"Short stints in jail as a teen. Otherwise, I tended to not let myself get caught."

Ben nodded with appreciation. "Yeah, you fucked those officers up pretty bad. It was impressive." Ben paused. Real Erik stayed calm. SCI Erik cringed at the entire conversation. "My parents did take me on a few stuffy trips to Europe. If I had to see one more castle or cathedral, I would have burned them all down." Ben shook his head, a scowl of disgust twisting his mouth. "Humanity has built far too many 'look-at-me' monuments to themselves. Humanity is vain, isn't it, Erik?"

"There's really no changing that," Erik replied, showing no reaction. _And some people were not vain. Christine. But now was not the time to display any vulnerability._

"You and I - we're above everyone else because they're stuck in their own system. Not virtual reality. No, they're stuck in a system of their own making, with stupid laws and conventions. Don't you hate them all, too?"

"Of course I have." No need to lie about the obvious. His two selves were conscious as he stated, "Yet misanthropy is so easy that it becomes dull after a while. You hate everyone? And then – so what? The world continues even though you hate it, as I have found."

Ben squirmed and then shrugged. "You can still make a few waves – _big_ waves - in the pool."

"And what was your _big_ wave, Benjamin?"

"Why don't you guess?" Ben playfully replied.

"No." Enough absurdity. "Back to business. Where in Texas?"

"Hold on. I need to find out what you're going to do. What's the plan?"

"I don't know yet," Erik snapped. "I have to think." He closed his eyes and tried to figure out where all this was going.

Out of nowhere, a horrible conversation returned to him.

 _"You can't! All those people! You can't kill dozens of people!"_

 _"I rather like the idea. It will be the biggest spectacle since Nicholas Vaughan had his day."_

 _"Don't do this! You are not Nicholas Vaughan!"_

He flinched. Why would he have that wretched memory now? The last thing he wanted to picture was the terror on her face. He opened his eyes to escape it, a shudder running through him.

Not noticing his reaction, Ben said, "I'll give you some time to think. I'll think, too. I'll try to be good for a little while."

He had to get out of there. "I will consider all of this," said Erik, backing toward the door. "In the meantime, stay away from me. And stay away from the people around me. I will find you instead."

Ben leered. "I have no interest in your harem, Erik. Here or out there. What the hell was up with that anyway? That blonde girl…"

"Shut up."

"But I'm seriously curious. What were you doing? Getting some action? I can respect that. Or were you looking for your very own Harley Quinn? Well, here's some advice. She doesn't exist. I got love letters in prison. You think any of those bitches would help me escape, though? Not one of them. Nope. Useless."

"Stay away from me," Erik nearly hissed. "If I see you near my apartment, I will bash your head in so hard that it will hurt even in this goddamned place." He turned and left before he attacked Ben, his sanity teetering as Christine was brought into the conversation.

Ben laughed hysterically behind him. He seemed to enjoy being threatened. "Bye, Erik! Good talking to you, Buddy! See you soon!"

Erik rushed outside and into the night. He was not scared of Ben. Rather, he feared what Ben brought out in him. Ben brought out the itch to cause harm, to kill.

He ran back home, checking many times to make sure that Ben wasn't following him. He reached his apartment and threw himself inside, closing the door behind him, locking it. He made sure all the blinds were closed. He turned off the main light in the living room. His heart pounded in his ears.

He turned around and realized that he was not alone.

Corey, Alice, and Christine were all standing there and staring at him - staring at him as though he had lost his mind.

Maybe he had. Of course he had. A long time ago.

Christine reacted first. "Erik!" Her eyes lit up with relief, and she approached to embrace him.

As her arms wrapped tightly around his body, all he could do was stare at the top of her head. And wonder how he could ever allow his previous self to be near this precious angel again. Maybe he should be lobotomized, defanged, erased.

Christine leaned back and looked up at him. She placed a hand on his cheek as he stared down at her with wide eyes. "Erik, what's wrong? What happened?"

All he really wanted to do was take her into a darkened room, away from everyone else, and bury his face in her shoulder.

Corey spoke, "What did he want?"

While Christine's voice and touch flooded him with emotions, Corey's question brought him back to reality. He slowly realized that there was no threat here, from himself at least. _He_ felt no urge to harm any of these people. "He wants help," Erik mumbled.

"Help with what?" asked Christine.

"Let's sit down," said Erik. He led them to the kitchen table. Alice sat on his left, and Christine sat on his right. Corey was across from him. In that lighted kitchen, with two friends and a…a lover, he was not a monster. In a calm voice, he explained what Ben had told him, leaving out the cruder remarks. He did say, "I do not know who he is. But I know that Ben has an extensive criminal record."

"Do you think he's killed someone?" asked Corey.

"Yes," Erik immediately replied. "Multiple people. I have that feeling." He explained the other danger, outside of Ben. The lobotomy.

His lovely Christine gasped and panicked. "Erik, we have to get you out of there! Immediately. Before this happens. Please." Her eyes filled with tears. "We have to."

Alice asked, "Do you think that Ben knows where you are? Beyond Texas."

"Perhaps. But he will not say unless I have a plan."

"Well," said Corey, tapping his fingers on the table. "The plan is that he gives us the location, and we come down there. Me, Christine, and maybe Gabby."

Erik stared at him. "And what do you plan to do with Ben?"

Corey hesitated. "Take him to jail?"

"I am sure he will agree to that," Erik replied with resigned sarcasm.

"Well, we don't have to tell him that," said Christine. "Just tell him that we'll save him from Hope and her awful surgery. Can't we make that deal?"

"Perhaps," Erik replied although he doubted that Ben would fall for it. A silence followed. Erik asked, "So I should gather more information from him, promising that you will help him escape? No matter who he is, you are willing to assist him?" They all blinked. He shook his head. "I hope you are not waiting for me to give you moral direction. That would be funny."

"We have to get you out of there, Erik," said Christine in a soft voice.

"I agree," said Alice. "Get him to tell you the location. There's nothing wrong with that. We'll figure out the rest later, depending on who he is."

Corey nodded in agreement.

"Fine," he murmured. "I will." Another awkward silence followed. He politely requested, "I would like to be alone with Christine for a little while."

Corey and Alice were understanding. They soon left. After checking once outside for Ben, Erik locked the door behind them.

He went with Christine to the couch. She knew exactly what he needed. Christine scooted close to him and wrapped her arms around his neck and shoulders, pulling him into her chest. Her lips touched his cheek.

Of course, he found the sensations to be wonderful.

But his other self - he could feel his other self nearly convulse during these moments. His other self was starved. He still didn't trust his other self around her.

His heart calmed as she lay back with him. He was finally able to bury his face in her neck, feel every curve of her body pressed against his. Even here, in a false body, she smelled wonderful, like the faint scent of a blossom. "It's going to be okay," she said as he closed his eyes. "We're going to find you soon, and everything is going to be okay."

For the first time, he let himself wonder, "Where will you go?"

"Hm?"

"Where will you go with… _him_?"

"Somewhere quiet for a while."

"He will be very weak at first. Pathetically so."

"He'll get stronger quickly," she replied. "Until then, I'll take care of him." Her words were loving, everything he could have hoped for, but they also made him feel pitiful. Would he always be her burden?

"Will you go to the theater?" he asked, remembering their time beneath it.

"Probably not," she replied with a soft laugh. "It's pretty busy these days. And there's been so many renovations. I'm not sure your rooms even exist anymore."

"A gift for you," he said without thinking. "The theater was a gift. Keeping it open was…"

She was quiet for a moment. "Erik? That was from you?" He nodded against her shoulder. "How? How'd you do that?"

" _He_ did that. Perhaps one thing I wish I could take credit for. Hope."

"What?"

"He made a deal with Hope. He would be good, cooperative, in exchange for giving you the theater." Erik raised his head and looked at her. Instead of joy, there was concern in her eyes.

"How would Hope have control over the theater?"

"I don't know…" There was a roadblock in his memories. "But it is good, right? You liked the gift?"

"I do like the gift. But, Erik, this is important. Why would Hope have any say in that?"

"I have to think." As her hands gently rubbed against his back, he closed his eyes and fell into the dark pit of memories. "The stadium. The abandoned stadium. She gave it up. So the parking garage could go there. And not where your theater was. That is how."

"Why on earth would Hope have control of the stadium?" she pressed.

"SCI did. Perhaps as property for expansion?"

"That's weird," said Christine. He shrugged. "Let me know if you remember anything else."

"I will."

"Are you okay?" she asked, her face so close to his. Except here – that did not matter. His face was fine here. His face here was what she deserved to look at every day.

With a quiver in his voice, he replied, "Ben thinks that I am like him. Or that _he_ is like him. What if that is true?"

"Erik, I don't know Ben. But, from what you've told me, I don't think you're the same."

"Okay…" He wanted to believe her. He wanted to blindly trust her. He wanted to belong to her.

She shakily sighed. "I can't wait to see you." Her eyes glimmered. "Are you ready to come back home with me?"

As the hour of his doom ticked closer, he had to make the choice. There would be no happily ever after in SCI. There was death. And there was returning. Without Christine in his arms, the choice would have been devastatingly easy.

But, with her here, it was also very easy. Because he was desperate to be with her, if she wanted him. She _wanted_ him. He did believe that now. No one had ever wanted him, but she did. And he needed her. "I hope _he_ is not terrible for you," Erik murmured, his chest growing heavy. "I hope you do not regret this. I hope you are not ruining your life." _And I hope he knows what he must do, if he realizes that he can be nothing but a monster._

"Give us a chance," she whispered, running her thumb over his cheek. "A real second chance."

He still couldn't help but wish that they could stay on that sofa forever, in that position, where nothing was ugly or broken. But, as always, they had to say goodbye.

When Corey and Alice returned, Erik thought that they seemed a little glum.

But maybe he was seeing everything through a layer of shadows.

"Find out where you are," Christine commanded before she left. "I'm coming to get you."

He knew that he would obey her.

* * *

Jumping between worlds so often made Christine's head feel a little fuzzy. The sensations of the real world could be overwhelming as she grew used to the dullness of the System. Light was too bright or noise was too loud. She wondered how Corey had adapted.

In any case, that was probably one reason it took her a little time to make the connection.

Christine was back home on a Friday, staring out her front window as 10 AM approached. She'd slept as much as she could, trying not to dissolve into panic over Erik's possible fate. She'd taken a long bath, releasing a bubblegum bath bomb, and attempted to relax in the fizzy pink water. There was a light spring drizzle outside. Her apartment was a little too quiet. She wondered how much longer she'd be living there.

It was nearly time to rescue him. She needed to begin brainstorming the places where they could go. He probably wouldn't enjoy her tiny apartment, and it wasn't very private. The cottage was certainly not safe and held too many unpleasant memories. They needed to start somewhere fresh in every possible way.

Her mind wandered to Nadir and his cabin. That would be a beautiful location for Erik to recover. Quiet and peaceful. No one would bother him or see him, unless Erik wanted them to.

She sadly wondered if Nadir would ever help, if she could ever trust him. Taking out her phone, she scanned down to his name. He definitely might have skills to aid with the escape. At least, he probably knew how to use a gun. Would they need a gun in this situation? She swallowed nervously.

What happened next, though, cemented her decision not to call him.

She saw Hope's name.

Hope I.V.

She remembered her conversation with Nadir at the hospital -

 _"Why do you have a weird look on your face when you talk about her? Can we trust her?"_

 _"You're asking me to help you hide and protect a very wanted criminal, someone whom society would like to see dead. Therefore, you have to understand that anyone who is willing to help us…well, they are going to have their own…They are going to be complex individuals."_

Complex individuals. What did that mean? It wasn't necessarily bad. Erik was a complex individual.

The stadium. Why would Hope have had control over that?

Pulling out her laptop, she did a web search for SCI. There was a lot of information about the company but nothing useful to her mystery. The company had no obvious connection to the stadium. Christine searched for Hope I. V. and came up with nothing. Even searching for Hope Ivey didn't get her much, only a couple of articles about SCI where Hope was briefly quoted.

What else would be useful? Looking up anything to do with SCI resulted in way too many search results. She tried looking for articles about SCI expanding their company. A couple of stories popped up about growing overseas. Nothing in the United States, though. That was weird. So the company had secretly and randomly held onto that creepy stadium where…

She paused. She searched: _Nicholas Vaughan._

Of course, that brought up millions of older results about the tragedy and the aftermath. She browsed a few sites but found nothing new. She clicked on the Wikipedia page for the tragedy.

 _Thirty-six dead…No clear motive…Life at a maximum security prison…Personality disorder…Psychopathy…Troubled child…His parents, Andrew and Isabel Vaughan, divorced after one year…Gave a couple of interviews…Backlash…Disappeared from public view…._

I.V.

Her brain tried to tell her that this could not be possible. Still, Christine searched for Isabel Vaughan.

Amidst thousands of search results, an online magazine headline popped up: _When Your Child is a Monster_ _– An Interview with Isabel Vaughan._ It was from seven years ago.

 _Isabel Vaughan remembers when she first heard the news that there had been a shooting involving her son's high school. Fear. Horror. Like every parent that day, she immediately hopped into her car and headed toward the stadium, frantically calling her son. He didn't answer. She phoned her husband next as she pulled into an overflowing parking lot, where police had set up…._

There was a single picture of her, just her face. And she looked different, yet… Christine stopped reading and gazed up as the sickening truth settled in. Feeling a chill, she shivered. "Oh, Nadir," she whispered. "You knew, didn't you? And you didn't tell me. You never told me! Oh my God!"

If she had known, though, what would she have done? Maybe made more of an effort to get to Erik that day? It didn't matter now. She still wasn't sure what all this meant. Only that it wasn't good.

Christine called Corey. He didn't answer so she left a message – "It's Christine. Please call me back. It's important."

For the rest of the day, she couldn't do anything except try not to completely freak out. She resisted calling Nadir and screaming at him, not wanting him to be involved at all.

Corey finally called an hour before he was supposed to pick her up. "Hey there. Sorry, I was working. What's wrong?"

"Nicholas Vaughan," she said. "Hope is his mother! She's Isabel Vaughan. And Nadir knew!"

"What?! That kid who killed a bunch of people?"

"Yes!"

Corey hesitated. "You're sure?"

"Nearly certain. I've known something was wrong about her all along. I looked at Isabel's picture. Their eyes and mouth are the same. I just know it. I feel it."

"All right. Well. What does this mean?"

"I don't know yet. I don't care. We have to get Erik out of there as soon as possible. All of it – I have the worst feeling."

Then Corey connected the final dot. "Ben…"

* * *

Erik didn't exactly know where he would find Ben. He went out early in the afternoon, with plenty of time to get back to meet Christine. Anxiety had gripped him ever since she had left. He was scared of this amounting to nothing. Or of Ben taking some unpredictable action.

His fears were unfortunately well-founded.

Maybe he shouldn't have been surprised to find Ben outside of the bar. Had the idiot been waiting for him all this time? Ben nodded, a gleam in his eyes. Erik nodded back and walked past him. They went inside and ordered drinks. Ben sat next to a younger redheaded girl with a long braid down her back. Erik sat beside him, on the last stool, allowing for a quick escape.

"So. Erik. Did you think of something with that big, wonderful brain of yours?" Ben asked.

Erik shrugged and attempted to appear nonchalant. "There really is no master plan for a situation like this. Except that I know people who can free us from the facility. You tell me the exact location, and they will come for us."

Ben set down his drink. He snorted. "That's it? That's your plan? You have some magical friends who are going to save us?"

"What the hell do you expect me to do?"

"And these friends of yours," Ben continued with a sneer. "Maybe they'll help you. But what exactly do they plan on doing with me?"

"They'll do whatever," Erik replied. "Free you in the middle of nowhere? Whatever."

"That doesn't sound promising," Ben replied. "They'll probably call the cops once they see who I am."

Letting a bit of his real self come through, Erik coldly retorted, "Whatever makes you think that acquaintances of mine would be that principled? The cops? Seriously? The sort of people whom I consort with would want nothing to do with law enforcement. You will be released to do whatever you like with whomever you like." This made Ben pause. Erik quickly continued, "What else do you expect? What is your brilliant plan, Benjamin?"

Ben sighed and rubbed his nose. "Here's the problem. I don't know the _exact_ location. Somewhere in Texas, probably out in the middle of nowhere. There were trees around the facility. But I can't give driving directions that one of your thugs can plug into their GPS. Sorry."

Erik felt a dullness overtake him. "I see. So you are the one who is useless."

Ben stared into his drink. "You were supposed to come up with a better plan, Erik. I'm disappointed."

"If it is so goddamned easy to create a plan, why haven't you devised one?" Erik growled. "I'll tell you why! You are a pathetic and useless _boy_ with nothing to contribute." Ben's features hardened, but he said nothing. "I will try to think of something else. And you will sit here and think of nothing. Because you are useless." His other self wanted to strangle Ben.

About five minutes of silence passed. Ben spoke again. "How many have you killed, Erik?"

"That is none of your damned concern."

"I'm curious. How many? I won't tell. It will be a secret between friends." Erik refused to reply. And he was certain that the phrase 'With friends like these…' applied nicely to Ben. "Dozens?" Ben asked. "Over fifty? Just tell me that. Have you killed over fifty?"

"Easily," Erik nearly whispered to shut him up. And maybe to intimidate him. Although it was true…Definitely more than fifty.

"Nice. I bet not all in one day, though, right? Otherwise, it would have been on the news. You would have been more famous. But maybe fame isn't your thing. It was kind of my thing back then. Not sure now. It's too fleeting." Erik said nothing, his fingernails digging into his palm. "Maybe your way was better. I'll have to think about it." Ben patted Erik's rigid shoulder. Erik used every last ounce of willpower to refrain from punching him in the face. "See, Erik. You've got me thinking. No one else really does that. No one else challenges me."

With the assistance of his real self, Erik could read Ben by now. He'd met a few men like him in the criminal underworld, killed more than a few men like him. They never lasted very long. They were careless thrill seekers with little self-control.

Ben quickly finished his drink and set the glass down with a loud clink. He sighed and stretched his arms far over his head. He stood. "Maybe you can't help me. Not yet. But I have a last plan."

Erik glanced at him. "What the hell are you doing now?"

"You wouldn't understand. It's very personal. Might not even work. But I'll die trying, which is better than being trapped in here."

"Is here really so bad?" Erik didn't know why he asked that question. Maybe he really wanted to know the answer.

"Seriously?" Ben laughed. "It's like some…I don't know…utopian nightmare out of a 1950's novel. It's the Twilight Zone. I'd rather put a gun in my mouth than stay here another moment. And you know what, Erik? I think you feel the same way." Ben stared at the other people in the bar with disdain. "Now how do I get out of here?"

At first, Erik thought Ben was going to dive at him. Erik jumped up, raised his arms, and prepared to fight. Instead, Ben winked at him, smiled creepily, turned around, and yanked on the long braid of the girl sitting next to him. She squealed in surprise. Ben tackled the girl and reached for her throat with both hands. She faced him and screamed, entirely taken off guard as they both tumbled to the floor. _Thud._

After overcoming a moment of shock, Erik went after Ben.

But, within a couple of seconds, Ben had disappeared.

* * *

When Hope received the phone call, after she listened to Daniel explain the chaos that Nicholas had caused, she immediately knew that it was time to take action. She only allowed herself to feel grief for a moment. That emotion did little good, as she had learned long ago. She had to stay strong. Eye on the prize.

After she explained what should happen next, Daniel was upset at first – "What? Why do you want to mess with Erik? He's successful right now. He's a successful project! My project!"

She got Daniel to calm down, though.

They would be very careful, try to preserve as much of Erik's intelligence as possible.

It wouldn't be perfect. But it would a start, until they had more patients to experiment upon.

Hope was impatient. She needed more results.

Daniel prepared for surgery.


	44. Chapter 44

**Onward we go. Thank you as always for the great comments. We should be at the climax within the next 2-3 chapters. And then about 3 chapters after that to wrap it up.**

 **Read and Review!**

Christine was utterly relieved to see that Erik was home. Until she saw his expression. But he asked first - "What is wrong?"

She told him everything, all her suspicions and discoveries. Erik slowly nodded. "Yes. Yes, now that you say it, I remember it. Ben is Nicholas. I realized it on the plane. No, Nadir said nothing about it."

His calmness somewhat disturbed her. He seemed to be slowly resigning himself to…something.

Then Erik told her about his conversation with Ben/Nicholas. "He cannot help with the location. Although, considering this information, we probably don't want him to. And I have no idea what he is planning."

"Well, then what do we do?" she frantically asked. Corey was there. Alice wasn't. "What do we do next?"

"I'll have to look around some more," said Corey, taking a step toward the door. "I'll go right now. Find anything that points to Texas." He left. She wished that she could help Corey. Christine felt helpless and useless.

At least maybe she could be of comfort.

Erik sat on the couch. She plopped down beside him. "We'll figure it out," she said, swallowing her own fears. "We're getting closer. At least we know the state. Although I wish it were Rhode Island instead of Texas."

Erik nodded, smiling slightly, but his mind appeared to be somewhere else. She slipped her hand into his, increasingly nervous. Soon, Erik had closed his eyes. "Are you remembering something?" she hopefully asked.

"No."

"Oh." She left him alone for several minutes, letting him do whatever he needed to do. She couldn't even imagine what was going on in his head right now.

Finally, he spoke. "Christine…"

His tone made her heart drop. "What? What's wrong?"

Erik stared forward, his shoulders curved. "I can hear a voice. On the other side. I think that Daniel is going to perform the operation very soon. Isabel must have been upset by Nicholas's behavior. And so she wants to begin…"

" _What?"_

"Yes. Daniel resisted. But I think it will be done soon."

"How soon?" she nearly gasped.

"Within twenty-four hours."

"No!" She felt paralyzed, hands frozen in the air, wanting to race toward a solution that didn't exist. Panic descended upon her. "No, we can't let her. What can we do? We have to do something. What can we do?!" Erik was quiet. "Can you wake up? Can you fight?"

Without looking at her, Erik dully replied, " _He_ will be too weak to fight, Christine. They will quickly sedate him if he tries."

"No." She shook her heard. "No. I need to get Corey back here. I need help. Nadir! There's still Nadir. There's…"

"I do not think you will make it. This…you will simply not arrive in time."

"Stop it! Stop saying…No." She started to cry, wishing he seemed more upset by this. "Erik, help me. Help yourself! Help!"

"I…" Erik shook his head and sighed. "Come here," he said. She quickly did so, her hands shaking. She let him embrace her. But he didn't say anything of comfort. "Christine."

"Erik, we have to stop this. I have to think of something!"

"They are going to do it soon. They are preparing. Even if you left now, you would not make it in time."

"No," her voice cracked. "No, no…I can still try Nadir! Maybe he can do something." Maybe he knew of secret police squadrons who could fly down in helicopters and stop Hope. She'd take anything.

"You can, but I would not hope for much. He likely does not know the precise location." Erik gently kissed the side of her head and pressed his cheek against her hair. His voice shook as he continued, "Whatever happens, you came here. You came. That is everything, you know? That you came back and tried…"

"No! Stop it! Why are you giving up so quickly?"

"I am _not_ giving up," he said with a touch of anger. "I am simply accepting the fact that Daniel is drawing on my… _his_ …whatever. It does not matter now. Daniel is drawing on my head with a black marker. He is laying out his tools. I…if I try to escape, if I scream, I will be sedated. I will be gone. And I would rather spend my last moments here with you."

"No. Erik, please. I'll call Hope! I have her number. I'll call Hope!"

"It won't matter," stated Erik. "She is determined to do this. She does not care about you."

"I'll give her anything she wants. Money? I'll find money. God, I'll even beg Raoul for money!" She knew she was being ridiculous. But she would have sold a kidney on the black market by that point.

 _Did Erik know how to sell a kidney on the black market?_

"Hope _has_ money," Erik replied. "She wants her son to be…normal. Can you do that? Can you make Nicholas Vaughan into a functional and healthy human being?" Christine stared up at him helplessly. Of course she couldn't. "Then there's nothing we have that she wants."

"But I have to try," Christine whispered through her tears. "I have to try to stop her. I'll call her first. Then I'll try Nadir. I'll beg everyone." She started to stand up, to get out of the System, to find Corey. To do every single last thing she could to save him.

"Christine…" A pause. She was afraid that he was going to try to stop her. Erik closed his eyes again. After a moment, he uttered - "Daniel."

"What?"

"Daniel is unhappy. He is a weaker link than Hope. He would be your…Possibly. He may want out of all this."

Her eyes widened. "But I don't have his number. Maybe Corey does!"

"It is a very long shot. I do not know. But you will have better luck with him than with Hope." Erik looked down, lips pressed together.

She wanted to stay with him. But - "I have to try. I have to get out. I want out! I want out!" Christine hopped to her feet and screamed at the ceiling. "I want out! Let me out!" She let the panic completely overtake her, not caring if Erik was staring at her as though she'd lost her mind. She jumped up and down as the tears fell. Finally, her panic attack yanked her out of the System.

She threw off the goggles and helmet. She stumbled forward, nearly falling. "Corey!" she cried. She didn't see him. Christine quickly slipped on the blouse and skirt, not bothering with the rest of her disguise. She pulled her phone out of her purse and called Corey.

"Christine?" He sounded surprised. "What are you -"

"I'm out of the System! Come to the room! Please!"

"Okay, okay." He was there in three minutes. Breathless, she told him everything. There was no time to get to Erik. And she explained what Erik had said – that they had a better shot with Daniel than with Hope.

Corey hesitated. "I don't know about that. Daniel is…he is not a warm person, Christine. What if it doesn't work?"

"Then we'll call Nadir," she said. "And he can threaten Hope with the police or…something. Maybe she'll be afraid of him. But she could hurt Erik before he gets there. I think we should try Daniel first. Please."

"Daniel is going to operate soon?" Corey asked.

"Yes! It could happen at any time. Do you have his number?"

"I think so. Assuming he hasn't changed it." Corey shrugged. "Well, I'll give it a try."

* * *

Corey took out his phone and dialed. He managed to stay outwardly calm. Christine was panicking enough for both of them, although he really couldn't blame her for that. Still, his heart was pounding, and his palms were so damp that he nearly dropped the phone. He hoped this call didn't make everything worse.

Although it was hard to see how things could get much worse.

To his relief, a slightly confused voice answered after three rings, "Corey?"

Corey took a deep breath. "Daniel."

A long pause. " _Corey._ Haven't heard from you in a while. How's it going?"

"It's…it's not going too well actually."

"What's up?"

No need for small talk. "Look. I know what you're doing. I know you're going to do surgery on Erik. And that it's probably going to permanently mess him up."

"How the hell do you know that?" Before Corey could respond, Daniel replied, "Oh. Ben. Ben said something to you guys, didn't he? I knew it was a shitty idea to keep putting him in there." Daniel sounded disgusted. That was good.

"You mean Nicholas?" Corey corrected with anger. "He's Nicholas Vaughan! What the hell are you doing, Daniel?"

"That's none of your goddamned business."

"You know, I don't care about that right now. I'm calling for one reason. Please don't operate on Erik."

Daniel huffed. "What? Why do you care?"

This would be a delicate conversation. Daniel would interpret emotion as weakness. "Because… he's my friend, I guess. There are other people here who care about him. There's someone who…" _No, too sentimental._ "Please don't do this."

Christine's eyes were wide. Corey was a little afraid that she might try to grab the phone from his hand.

"Well, it's not even my idea," Daniel muttered. "Hope wants it done. She's delusional."

"So tell her 'no.'"

"Why should I?"

"What do you want? A bribe." Corey sighed. "I can try to get you some money."

Daniel scoffed. "You can't pay me as much as she does."

"What do you want?" pressed Corey. "Tell me what you want. There has to be something I can give you to stop you from doing this. You obviously don't want to do it. So tell me what I can do for you. Man to man. Tell me what you want."

There was another pause. Corey heard the clink of metal against metal, as though Daniel had put down a tool. Daniel lowered his voice to a whisper. "You know what I want, Corey? I want out. I don't want to be associated with this place or with Hope or with SCI."

"How can I help you with that?" Corey asked. "I won't tell any anyone you were there."

"I want…I want to be erased from every system, every database, in SCI. Then I want to take my mother, fly to another country, and never look back. I want to be left alone. Eventually, everyone will find out what was done here. I want time to get out and disappear."

"Okay," said Corey, releasing a breath. "Okay. Uh." He saw instant relief on Christine's face. "Let me think about how to do that."

"You're really agreeing to it?" Daniel asked.

"Yes," said Corey.

"I want to be completely erased."

"I can try to do that. Definitely."

"Don't try. Do it," Daniel snapped.

Corey managed to stay calm enough to sweeten the deal. "All right. But if I manage to accomplish all that, I want to know where you are. I want driving directions. So that I can get to Erik before she kills him. Does that sound fair?" Christine rapidly nodded.

Daniel replied, "I'm not telling you where I am until after I'm out of here. Once you've fulfilled your part of the deal, I'll send you some directions. Then you'll never hear from me again. Don't try to find me. Don't try to contact me. When you find out what's happened here, you'll hate me. I don't give a damn."

Corey nervously wondered what Daniel had been doing. But now wasn't the time for an interrogation. "That's fine. You won't operate?"

"No. I'll delay. Then I'll leave."

"Thank you," Corey whispered with relief. "One last question."

"Yeah?"

"After you've left, can anyone else step in and do the surgery?"

"Not soon," said Daniel. "Especially if I don't leave instructions. It'll take a long time, if Hope decides to do it at all." A pause. "What exactly are you going to do with my project?"

"With Erik?"

"Yeah."

"Why?" asked Corey.

"It was a success," stated Daniel with a quiver in his voice. "Wasn't it? Wasn't I successful, Corey? Didn't I fix him?"

"Sure. Your project was a success." Corey winked at Christine.

"What are you doing with it?" Daniel repeated.

"I'm…moving it to the next stage," said Corey. "Your project will live. I can promise you that. Okay?"

"Okay…"

"Good. All right. Well. You'll hear from me soon."

"Okay. Yeah. That's good." Daniel sounded tired and uneasy. He probably hadn't been happy for some time. "Bye."

"Goodbye, Daniel. Thanks." Corey hung up. His arm dropped to his side. Christine approached. He gave her half a smile. "Well. I bought us some time at least. Hopefully, we'll get directions."

To his surprise, she jumped forward and threw her arms around his neck. "Thank you!" She nearly sobbed into his ear. "Thank you, Corey."

He gave her a gentle pat on the back. She released him, and he told her the rest of the plan. They needed help in erasing all of Daniel's digital fingerprints. "Zach can help. I can do a little bit. I'm not sure it will be enough."

"Erik can hack," she said. "Or - the real Erik could. Could he help?"

"Maybe so," said Corey. "I think he can access the real world networks from the System?"

Christine blinked. "You're asking the wrong person."

"Well, we'll try. I'm also going to contact Gabby and see if she's willing to help us. As soon as we've fulfilled our part of the deal and notified Daniel, we all have to leave. I'll buy us one-way tickets to Texas. Hopefully, Daniel will send us directions, and we can rent a car and drive to the right place immediately. If not…"

"If not, we'll have to call Nadir," she said. "I don't want to. I don't trust him around Erik. But…"

"Right." Corey felt a little terrified. He'd never done anything like this. A secret mission. "Are you ready?" He certainly wasn't.

"I have to be," she replied.

* * *

Christine nearly tackled Erik once she was back in there. "You were right!"

Poor Erik could barely smile. He was trying to be strong and steady for her, but the mental anguish, the helplessness, must have been very hard for him. She was going to have to try harder not to panic.

But that was difficult because she felt half-crazy with fear.

"I may need you to do something else," she said, holding both his hands. "Corey is going to try to erase all of Daniel's associations with SCI. He might need your help. Please don't ask me how that works because I have no idea."

"I will not ask," said Erik.

"But you think you could help?"

" _He_ probably could."

They waited for Corey to come back. She was still afraid that Erik could disappear at any moment, that Daniel would change his mind. She asked, "Can you hear anything on the other side?"

"No," he replied. "There is near silence. Daniel is gone." Erik added, with an edge, "He will escape, won't he?"

"I'm sorry," she said. "I know that isn't right. But it was the only way. And, if Daniel helps us find you, maybe…maybe he isn't the worst person in the world."

"I can assure that he is a terrible person." Erik shrugged. "But it does not matter. It is what it is."

A couple of hours passed, and the waiting was unbearable. All they could do was hold onto each other. Corey finally returned, and he was holding a laptop. "All right. Zach has done his best, and I've done mine. You're up, Erik. I need you to make sure that Daniel is erased from all things connected to SCI. I need you to basically make him disappear. Can you do that?"

Erik nodded. He stood, and Corey handed him the computer. "I will go in the bedroom," said Erik. He quickly walked away. The door closed with a sharp click.

"I guess he needed quiet," said Corey.

"No," she murmured. "He went in there to be his real self."

"Oh."

Christine sat down. She would let him have some time to do what he needed. Then she was going in there. Corey took a seat, too. "I'm tired," he said.

"Me, too. Hey, is Alice doing well?"

Corey briefly looked uncomfortable, which confused Christine. "Oh, yeah. Busy today. I'll have her come stay with Erik after we leave. So he's not alone."

"That's a good idea." She was a little curious but let it go. Corey turned on the television to a comedy movie, and they watched that, both desperately trying to kill time.

Christine finally stood. "I'm going to check on him."

"Is that a good idea?" asked Corey.

She gave him a brief _look_. "Yes. It is." Corey backed down and nodded, turning back to the television.

Christine walked to the bedroom door. She slowly opened it and peeked inside. The room was completely dark except for the glow of the computer screen. Erik was hunched over the keys, typing at a furious pace. He sat up slowly as she came in and closed the door behind her. "I came to see how you were doing," she said. Christine took on an unassuming tone, as though she didn't know.

He turned and stared, his head swerving over his shoulder at an almost unnatural angle. His eyes were intense, almost blacker than usual. He watched…as she came closer and closer. She reached out and touched his shoulder with her fingertips. He shuddered. She asked, "How's it going?" He only stared up at her, studying her. With a bit of courage, she leaned down and whispered in his ear, "Are you _my_ Erik?"

She wrapped an arm around the front of his neck and kissed his temple. She pressed her cheek against his. And then looked at the screen. Christine started. "What…?"

"Your Erik," he mumbled. "Look at what your Erik can do."

"What is that?"

"It is you. I found your connection."

Indeed he had. There was a white outline of a human body on the black screen. Only the brain was colored in, pinkish. In the left hand corner, there were numbers. She saw her heart rate and temperature. Blood pressure. Height. Weight. Erik clicked on the brain. Suddenly, there were lots of colors, like a rainbow, and bouncing lines. Squiggly lines. Zigzags. "What is it?" she asked. When she spoke, some of the lines jumped higher.

"Your connection," he repeated. He got out of her brain and clicked on her body. There were more jumping lines that seemed to react whenever she moved. Reds and blues must have signified certain temperatures. "This is you," he fondly continued. "Inside. Isn't it beautiful? All of your waves, all of your thoughts and movements, are so harmonious. Perfect, really. I wanted to see you…"

She looked at the screen again. He stared up at her. And he must have seen the flicker of something unpleasant in her expression. Because Erik flinched and looked down. And she could read his face – _I have already messed it up and frightened her._

She wasn't frightened, though. Or upset. It was just a little strange to see herself like this. Maybe it reminded her of her own mortality and fragility. But Erik thought it was beautiful. She quickly hugged him and kissed him before he could sink any deeper into himself. "Yes," she said. "There I am. Wow."

He perked up and began to explain, "When I first heard you in here, I could not believe it. Over and over, I told myself that it could not be true. But you kept coming back. Then I thought you were a trick. And here you are." He gestured at the screen. "You are a living person with a heartbeat and brain waves. Your physical traits match _hers._ And yet, despite this, despite all evidence to the contrary, I still find it difficult to believe that you are real. Because _why_? Why would you ever want to see me again?"

Her mouth fell open. "Erik, please don't tell me that you still don't think I'm real. After all this?"

"I…believe you are real. At a logical level. The odds say that you are real. Yet I fear awakening. And none of it being real. There could not be a worse torture – and I would know."

"Erik," she murmured, burying his face into his neck. "You won't completely believe until you see me out there, will you?"

"I suppose not." He closed his eyes and rubbed his cheek against hers. "I cannot imagine what it will be to see you out there. If you are really there. I cannot imagine you…touching me…" She felt his breath on her cheek.

"Soon you won't have to imagine anything. But we have to hurry, Erik." She swallowed and looked at the screen. "How long will it take you to do what Corey wanted?"

"That? I finished that in fifteen minutes. It was nothing. So long as he is quick about it, Daniel has time to scurry into whatever hole he desires."

She chuckled and shook her head. "You're so smart. Do you know how smart you are?"

"Of course I do. Sometimes I wish that I were stupid, so that I would not _know_ so much. Perhaps I should welcome the lobotomy."

"No, no," she whispered, hugging him even more tightly. "We're getting you out with your mind intact. I'd better tell Corey you're done. Do you want to stay here or come with me?"

"I want to come with you in this body." She realized how he'd interpreted her question. "But even I do not have the intelligence to pull that off. Perhaps design an automaton and download my mind into it?"

"Oh, Erik…"

"No. I would be dead before it worked properly. Dead."

She felt a little sad as Erik suddenly pulled away from her and stood. Yet she knew the time for reassuring him would have to come later. When he actually believed that she was real. When she could say those things to his real unmasked face. Only then would her promises mean anything to him.

He walked with her to where Corey waited.

"It is done," said Erik.

"Cool," said Corey. "I'll let Daniel know."

"Will you also let him now that, if I ever run into him, he will lose an appendage?" Erik asked.

Corey gaped. "What? I don't…I don't think I'm going to say that."

An awkward silence followed. Then Erik slowly smiled. "Kidding. Merely kidding. Doesn't everyone enjoy a good appendage joke now and then? I guess not." He walked toward the couch and took a heavy seat.

Corey looked at Christine. "I think he likes you," she whispered and meant it.

"I'm just going…to go make that call," said Corey, quickly inching toward the door.

She didn't know which Erik she sat beside, which Erik she waited with.

And she didn't know which Erik she tearfully said goodbye to - kissed goodbye - with the promise that she would see him very, very soon.

But, as Erik had said, maybe it didn't matter now.

* * *

All Daniel had left behind was a note. A stupid fucking note.

 _I'm out._

Upon finding it in her office, lying on a computer keyboard, Hope had screamed in rage. She crushed the little piece of paper in her palm. Sweeping her arm over the desk, she knocked pens and notebooks to the floor. She kicked a file cabinet with her black high heel shoe, sending a loud _boom_ into the room. Besides Erik and Nicholas, no one else was in the building. There was a single security guard outside, but he likely couldn't hear her tantrum.

She didn't know what other damage Daniel might have done. Had he called the police? Alerted the authorities? Or had he merely disappeared like a ghost, leaving no traces behind him? She didn't know how much time there was to take any sort of action.

And she didn't know what to do next. Daniel had left no instructions. He had taken all his notes and research.

She had no one. Except for her mentally ill son. He had been screaming at her ever since they had taken him out of the System, but she had ignored him, not wanting to be manipulated. Now she stumbled toward his room and opened the door. Nicholas was watching television. It looked like a war documentary. History had always been his favorite subject.

Nicholas stared at her. "Mother!" He sniffed. "I've been waiting for you to come visit me again. I'm lonely."

"He's gone," she said, defeated. She took a seat in a hard plastic chair across from his bed.

"Who?"

"Daniel! He left us. I don't know when or where. But he's gone."

"He left?" Nicholas blinked. He looked to the side as though thinking about something. Then he grinned. "Wow. Nice. Very, very nice. Did he operate on Erik?"

"No," she snapped. "He didn't do anything."

"Great!"

"Shut up!" she shouted. "Now there's no one who can help you. Daniel was our best chance. He knew what he was doing. Don't you understand? Now you have no chance! You'll _never_ be okay!"

Nicholas shook his head. "Mother, that operation would have made me into a retard. No other way to put it. Is that what you wanted?" Hope didn't respond. She felt too sick to sort it all out in her mind. What was she going to do? How would she ever find another surgeon? Hell, how would she even find a person who could hook Nicholas into SCI? Nick continued, "Mother, this is all so stupid. You're trying to play God and make this all too complicated. But it's very simple."

"It is?" she murmured, her face buried in her hands.

"Yes, Mother. Look. I am not the idiot teenager I used to be. I'm not saying that I'm a good person. But all I want now is calm. I want to live the rest of my life out quietly. So why don't we go somewhere together?" Nick's voice grew softer and sweeter. "Just you and me, Mom. Let's forget everything and everyone else. Let's go somewhere."

Hope rubbed her eyes. Her hands dropped into her lap. Slouched in the chair, she replied, "I can't. You're too broken."

"Broken is relative. Everyone is broken. You're broken. I'm broken. Daniel – obviously broken. But you and I can go somewhere where neither of us can hurt anyone. Right, Mom? Somewhere quiet. Just you and me on the beach?"

"I don't know…" Hope began to cry. It had been a while since she'd done that. But she had no authority now, no one to impress or control. The only person with her was the one person who had power over her. "I just wanted you to be good," she stated. "Why can't you be good?! Why?!"

"Mommy," said Nicholas. "Mommy, let's you and me go somewhere. With palm trees. And the ocean."

"I tried so hard," she whispered. "I don't understand! I don't understand why you can't be good." Her face warmed, and her hands clenched into fists. "It's just chemicals. Neurotransmitters. Hormones. And brain signals. Isn't that all we are? Why can't it be fixed?"

"Mom…"

"I just wanted…" She spread out her hands. "I wanted to see you graduate. I wanted to help move you into your dorm. And see you get a degree in a field that would make everyone envious. Mathematics or physics. Engineering. You were so smart, Nicholas. So goddamned smart. And I wanted to see you get married to a nice girl. And have children. I wanted to be a grandma! I wanted so many things. I wanted them _so_ badly." She released a breath. "And yet even if you became homeless…or a deadbeat dad…or an addict…it still would have been better than this, Nicholas. It still would have…"

"Mommy, don't cry," soothed Nicholas. "It'll all be okay soon. It'll be fine. We'll go somewhere far away."

"I couldn't see any way out. I had nothing. Everyone was gone. You and your father. In a single day, everything was gone," Isabel brokenly whispered. "Everything was just gone. Gone."

"Don't you have a place where we could hide, Mommy?"

"Hide?" She hoarsely laughed. "An island. We could have an island. I was going to have Daniel do the surgery, and then we would go to the island."

"Let's still go to the island," he said. "Let's go together. It'll just be us. Nothing bad can happen there."

"I…" She felt disoriented, out of control, like she was falling down a long tunnel.

"Mommy, I want a hug. I want to get up and give you a hug. Then we can be together. I'll be good. If you give me a hug, I'll be good. Let's take a plane somewhere far away. Please."

"I don't know."

"Free me, and then we can go away together. I'll be good. I'll be exactly like you want, okay? Please? Please let's go? Please, Mommy. Please, please, please."

"I…"

"Please, please, please."

That evening, Isabel Vaughan sent the security guard home, telling him she wouldn't need him for the rest of the day.

In reality, she would never need him again.

She considered putting Erik to permanent rest, but Nicholas convinced her to let Erik die naturally. Eventually, he would run out of nutrition and liquids. Nicholas said, "See, Mom. We'll both stop killing. We shouldn't kill. Killing is bad. So don't kill Erik."

Isabel smiled to herself as he said this. Maybe Nicholas had changed after all. No, there would be no more killing. A private plane was coming soon.

"I want a hug, Mom." She stiffly reached out her arms toward him. He shook his head. "No, my arms are chained down. I can't give you a real hug. Are you really going to keep me chained up forever? Even on the island? Mommy, free me so that I can give you a real hug. Please? I'll show you that everything will be okay. Okay?"

So she got the keys. To Nicholas's shackles. Because he wanted to give her a hug. Her son wanted to hug her. No one had hugged her in a very long time.

 _Click._ She freed him from his chains. They jingled as they fell to the cold linoleum tiles.

Isabel looked up and smiled as her son reached out with both hands, toward her neck, to hug her –


	45. Chapter 45

**Ah, we're at that point in the story with inevitable cliffhangers. Your favorite, I know. Read and Review? :)**

 _He_ didn't know how long they sat there together, silently gripping hands. It could have been seconds, minutes, hours. Corey eventually stepped back inside and said, with a slight tremble in his voice, "Christine, it's time to leave. I'll give you a moment to say goodbye. Alice will be here soon."

For a moment, _he_ hated Corey.

Again caught in between his two selves, he felt his heart plunge. This was it. The lovely fantasy was over. There would be no happy ending to this story.

Only - she didn't see it that way.

Christine threw her arms around his neck. "Erik, Erik. I can't wait to see you. I can't wait till you're safe. Oh, I don't want to leave you here, but I have to. I have to find you."

"Do you?" he whispered.

"Yes. You know you're not safe. And you don't even believe I'm real yet. We can't live like that. I won't." She kissed and nuzzled his cheek.

But he had believed in her enough to be happy. Weren't they happy here? Happier than they had been back there, he was certain. There had been no screams of terror, no fear.

Christine leaned back, one of her hands resting on the back of his head. "Erik, what's wrong? Are you scared? I am, too. But I have to try."

This was not the time to lie. "Nothing about me will be better back there," he grimly replied. "Everything will be worse. And you ask me what is wrong? All of it will be wrong. Even if you save my life, all will be wrong."

"No, it will not be wrong! I miss you. I miss your music. I miss how smart you are, talking to you. I miss how tall you are. You remind me of a sleek black cat. I miss -"

"You cannot miss that horrid face, though. You cannot."

"But I do. I miss you. As the entire person."

Erik looked down. "There must be something you will not miss. One thing. There must be. If you do not admit to one thing, I will not believe you." She didn't respond. "Say it. Say what you will miss."

"Well," she softly began. "I will miss that SCI Erik…"

"Say it."

She sighed. "I like how SCI Erik tells me things, his fears and hopes. And he doesn't try to hide everything or push me away. He doesn't get mad when I ask questions about him. I like that he's open. I understand so much more now. That's what I'll miss. So there you go."

Erik slowly nodded. If he survived, he didn't know how much of all this he would remember. But he hoped that, if he remembered nothing else, he would at least remember that.

"Erik, this isn't real," she continued. "It was a nice place for us to see each other for a little while. Like a waiting room. Limbo. But it's not real life. I promise we can have a real life."

He inwardly winced. Because she couldn't make that promise. Because she had no idea what he would do out there. He did not even know what he would do. What if, the second he were back in the real world, he killed someone? Then what would happen to her promise?

He felt frustrated with her, even as he loved her more than anything in the world. He felt desperately frustrated because she could not see how bad it might be. She leaned up and kissed him again. There were tears in her eyes. Even as he kissed her back, he wanted to ask – _What are you doing, Christine? What the hell are you doing? You cannot. You cannot bring him back. This is insanity._

But he didn't say that. She was determined. Any attempt to dissuade her would be met with tears and anger. And she would do it anyway.

And he wanted her to do it. That was the sickest part of all.

Because he knew that, on the other side – once the artificial chemicals and hormones and electrical impulses were flushed from his body – he would nearly forget this place. And only want her. When he had allowed his real self to creep through, he had sensed this.

His real self wanted to know if she were real.

And if she were…

She tightly hugged him one last time, her cheek pressed against his chest. "Erik, I have to go. But I'll see you soon." She took a shaky breath. "I…I care so much about you. I want to tell you more. But I want to wait and tell the real you." Her shoulders were shaking, and she was crying. "But I care about you more than anything in the whole world. I can't wait to see you!"

He was too disoriented to give her a proper response. Physically and mentally, he was ill. He was plunging into a dark pit. He only stared forward with wide eyes as she held him.

She finally pulled back. "Erik," she said. "I'll see you very soon, okay?"

He nodded. She wiped at her eyes with the tips of her fingers.

In retrospect, he was furious with himself for not saying something to her. Again, he had been too self-absorbed to do so, too trapped within his own self-loathing.

Again, he had to let her go. This time – it was worse and better for the exact same reason.

"Okay," she said, reluctantly stepping backwards. "Okay, I have to go. I'll see you soon. In days. Goodbye, Erik. Goodbye." With a final glance, she left. She turned and ran out the door.

For a second, he stared at the spot where she had stood. "Wait," he whispered. "I love you." But she was gone from this world. He couldn't follow.

It always felt like death when she left. Erik took a heavy seat at the kitchen table and buried his face in his hands.

That was how Alice found him an hour later. He didn't look up at her when she entered.

"What's wrong?" Alice asked. He didn't say anything. "Are you worried? You must be. I'm worried, too. But Corey and Gabby will know what they're doing. They're both smart. So is Christine."

Alice's words made him recall the other horror in all this. Christine could be in danger. If anything happened to her…All _his_ fault. Erik should his head. "I am…not good," he muttered more to himself than to her. "I am a disaster. I should not go back. It would be better for everyone. Especially her."

He heard a squeak against the linoleum as Alice pulled up a chair beside him. She put a hand on his shoulder. "Do you really believe that, Erik?" she softly asked. "You really think you can't be a better person there?"

"If I say 'yes,' what will you do?" he replied.

"Nothing."

He sharply glanced up. "Why?"

Alice shrugged. "Christine is determined. Nothing I say is going to stop her."

"She is stubborn," he fondly replied, feeling a warmth in his heart.

Alice hesitated before saying, "Erik, there is a difference between you needing some help out there, some time to heal…counseling…whatever. There's a difference between that and you thinking that you're…going to go far off the deep end. No one expects everything to be perfect. She doesn't. So what are you trying to say?"

He opened his mouth to reply. Then he closed it. Because he didn't know. He didn't know what would happen out there. Finally, he admitted, "I feel as though everything is spinning out of control. And there is no way to stop it."

"I know," she murmured. "Sometimes life is like that."

"Alice?" he asked after another moment.

"Yes?"

"If you were…physically well in the other world, would you choose to go back? If you were able to be there, would you go back?"

"Of course," she replied without a pause. "I'd go back in a heartbeat."

* * *

Christine felt slightly better once they were on the move. She felt like she was finally working toward her goal.

Her last moments with Erik had made her gloomy. He hadn't even responded to her last words, instead staring blankly at her, and that had hurt. And it made her wonder - what if Erik really didn't want this? What if he wanted SCI? What if, after the danger was over, she had to find a way to get him back into the System? Because he wasn't happy out here…

She had made her choice.

Maybe Erik hadn't made his yet.

If she had to give him up after finally getting him back, it would break her heart. She couldn't think about that now, though. It would destroy her focus.

Early in the morning, Corey picked up Gabby Giry at a bus stop. Once Gabby was in the backseat, a small black suitcase beside her, Corey introduced them.

"It's so nice to meet you, Christine," said Gabby, extending a hand. Facing her, Christine took it. "I've heard a lot about you. And what you've been doing – I was in shock when Corey told me everything. You're very brave."

"It's nice to meet you, too," said Christine. "Thank you so much for helping us. It means the world." She could hardly get through a sentence without bursting into tears. Despite her resolve, she felt very fragile. "Corey said that you can help take care of Erik once he's out."

Gabby nodded and gave her a sad smile. "That's my specialty. Even if everything goes well, his recovery will be a little intense in the first few days. But it should be smooth after that. Or as smooth as can be expected."

Having Gabby there was definitely reassuring. The only thing better would have been having a Nadir whom she could actually trust. There were moments when Christine was still tempted to call him, but she refrained. _Only in an emergency._

Some parts of their journey were smooth, and others weren't. The roads were pretty clear, and the airport wasn't that busy. But Corey got selected for an extra security screening, which took thirty minutes. "Probably because I bought one-way tickets on short notice," he grumpily explained afterwards.

Christine wondered if it was also because he'd declared a gun in his checked luggage.

Still, they made their flight. Christine even had time to buy an expensive slice of airport pizza. She could only eat half of it.

On the plane, she and Gabby sat beside each other. Christine had the window seat. Corey sat in front of them. The flight would be about two hours. Not too bad.

"I told my daughter that I had a business trip," said Gabby, wringing her hands. "I guess that's sort of true."

"How old is she?" asked Christine.

"Seventeen. A little younger than you." Gabby smiled. "She's a dancer."

"That's great. I always wished I could dance, but I was never very coordinated."

"Well, you're a wonderful singer."

"Erik made me better," Christine replied, glancing down. Her stomach hurt. Maybe she'd get a Ginger Ale. "I'm scared."

"I am, too," Gabby admitted. "I really can't believe all this. I feel terrible. Long ago, I thought that SCI was the best thing for Erik. I trusted Hope. But she obviously…well, she's a few mules short of a petting zoo, isn't she?"

Christine sickly laughed. "That's one way of putting it."

"Maybe I can reason with her, if she's there," Gabby murmured. "She has to be stressed without Daniel. Maybe she'll want a way out."

"God, I hope so." Otherwise they would have to sneak into danger.

Christine turned to look out the window for a while after they took off, at the blue sky and puffy white clouds. The feeling of dread intensified. There was something she needed to ask Gabby. She didn't want to ask it. She really, really didn't.

"Gabby?" she whispered, turning around.

"Yes?" Gabby looked up from a paperback book that she was reading.

"Gabby, if Erik doesn't want to be in this world, is there a safe way to put him in SCI? A way where nothing bad will ever happen to him?"

"Why?"

"Because sometimes I think he'd rather be in there. I want him to be happy. So I was wondering."

Gabby sighed. "Oh, my dear. I don't know. That would be very hard to do after everything that's happened."

"But not impossible?"

"I don't know," Gabby repeated. "I don't have the kind of power to make it happen, though. I'm sorry."

Christine nodded. "Well," she murmured, folding her arms against her chest. "Well, I'll just ask him what he wants. When he's back. Right? I'll just…I can…Try." She swallowed back tears.

"Right," Gabby said, gently. "One thing at a time."

* * *

Alice didn't let him mope for very long, which made him feel a strange combination of resentment and gratitude. She brought out a deck of cards. After he grew tired of the mindless game she made him play, Erik taught her a few card shuffling tricks that his real self knew. Then he showed her some magic tricks where he always guessed the right card or made the card appear somewhere unexpected. She laughed and seemed to be amused.

After that, they watched a science fiction movie about destructive aliens. They ate popcorn and pepperoni pizza. They napped on the couch. She took him on a last walk of the town. Past the restaurants, movie theater, and the park where he'd played volleyball. Then they went up the mountain and to the stream. Alice gave him his last moments of normalcy.

Lying on the soft grass, staring up at the sky, he allowed himself to mourn what wasn't real. His face. His temperament. The fact that no one here wanted to arrest him for murder – or mold him into a 'pet murderer.' He mourned going on a date in a restaurant with Christine; he would never do that again. He mourned Normal.

Normal.

Suddenly, he remembered the moment when he had first seen Christine at the theater. That seemed so long ago now. Yet he vividly recalled how badly he had wanted her to make him feel normal. He had wanted what everyone else had. And he had been willing to destroy the world to obtain it.

But now – well - Christine made him feel so much more than normal, didn't she? He liked doing normal activities with her here, but she had never made him normal. She made him feel electrified, warm or hot – depending on the moment, delighted, ecstatic, aroused. When he made her smile, he felt energized. When he made her cry, he wanted to die. So she could also make him feel horrified or ashamed. If he acted poorly. Christine made him feel everything. And was that better than normal?

He sat up.

"What are you thinking about?" Alice asked. She was also sitting on the grass.

"I…I do not know." He wanted to not think about himself for a moment. He wanted to think about anything but himself. He said, "You will be able to return to your normal life soon, won't you? That is good. Ken. Leigh. You must miss them."

"Yeah. I do. But this has all been kind of exciting."

"And Corey, too. He can have his life back. And you can all be friends again." Alice was silent. Erik turned and looked at her face. "What is wrong? Are you angry with Corey?"

"No. Of course not. He's helped so much…"

"Then what is wrong?"

"It's kind of awkward…"

"I am utterly awkward," stated Erik. "And you know all about me. What is it?"

"Well. The other day, Corey asked me out," Alice murmured. Erik blinked. "On a date. But I said that I couldn't."

"Because you do not like him?"

"No, no. I do like Corey. He's smart and funny. And kind. But - it's a dead end. He could be fired at any time, once someone realizes what he's been doing. Or he could want a new job. I wouldn't blame him if he did. I'm not going to be in a relationship like that. Where's that going to end up?"

Erik felt his heart hurt. He remembered the feeling from before. But - not from this world. From the other. The real one. Right before he had let Christine go. He had felt the sensation, knew that he had hurt Christine in unspeakable ways. His SCI self could identify it. _Empathy._ "I am sorry," he said, his voice hoarse.

"Thank you. But I'll be okay," Alice replied. She stared at him with uncertainty. "I hope you will be, too, Erik."

"Yes. I hope we will be…okay."

But he wasn't sure what _okay_ meant anymore.

* * *

It didn't completely dawn on Christine until she was sitting in the backseat of the black rental car, riding to their motel. She was now in the same state as Erik. She was near to him. Her body buzzed with fear at the dangerous mission ahead of her and with excitement at seeing him soon.

The motel was on the outskirts of the city so that they could quickly leave at any time. Daniel had told them where to go so that they wouldn't spend hours driving across the state. Corey had gotten them two rooms. He would be in one. Gabby and Christine would be in the other. They had talked about where they would take Erik after rescuing him. Probably somewhere like a campground. At that point, it was important that they weren't traceable. Once Erik was stabilized and they had assessed the danger, they would decide what to do next. Christine hoped that Erik would be able to help, as he had much more experience navigating complicated situations.

Gabby would assist with all of Erik's medical needs. Christine and Corey would keep watch and make sure they were fully stocked with food and toiletries. "And Christine," said Gabby. "There's a chance that he could be upset and disoriented. Angry. I trust you'll help keep him calm."

"I will give him whatever he needs," Christine replied. She inwardly winced as she remembered what her statement might eventually mean.

For the next two hours, after they arrived at the motel, everyone took naps and showers. And then all they could do was wait for Daniel to contact them. Stupid, selfish Daniel. She wanted to call him and make demands. _Where the hell is Erik?!_ But Corey probably wouldn't think that was a good idea.

At least she was close. At least there was hope.

Hope. Isabel. How the heck were they ever going to reason with that woman? Or sneak past her? She was obviously very smart.

Christine thought about this for a while, before they all went to dinner at a nearby burger place.

But - it was really a waste of time to worry about that at all.

* * *

Eventually, his self-loathing was replaced by an intense fear over whatever Christine was facing. Once he and Alice returned to his apartment, Erik was utterly restless. "What if she is hurt?"

"They'll be careful," said Alice although her tone wasn't very convincing.

"They are not trained for this type of thing. It was a terrible idea!"

Alice shrugged. "What would you have them do? How would you have them save you?"

"I don't know." He thought of Nadir. But Nadir likely wouldn't want to save _him_ at all. "She cannot die. If anything happens to her…" He didn't finish even though he knew the answer.

"Erik, it's done now. They'll be okay. I'm sure Gabby will be a big help. She's familiar with Hope. Let's turn on a movie, relax, and kill time."

He would never be able to relax until this was all over. The more he thought about the plan, the more ridiculous it seemed. Still, there was no way to stop it now.

He watched what was on the television but was barely able to keep up with the storyline. The whole world grew darker, reflecting his mood.

And then the colors began to run together. The sound was off, echoing and distant, as though they were in an enormous room with high ceilings. The lights drastically dimmed. All because he was worried about Chris -

No. No, that was not it. Something was happening. He glanced at Alice. She didn't appear overly alarmed.

It was only happening to him. Erik slowly stood. The ground tilted beneath him. "Alice." He gripped his head, feeling nauseated. "Alice, something is wrong. Everything is off. The light…"

Alice hopped to her feet. "What? Well, maybe…maybe they found you," she said with uncertainty. "Maybe they're unplugging you."

His head ached. "It's too much. It's too fast."

"It will be okay. Remember? When this happened last time? That was such a crazy night. But Erik. You're okay. You're going back home now. You'll be with Christine, right? It'll be okay."

But she didn't understand. It felt like his head was being torn apart and flung in a million different directions. He could hear both worlds now. He could hear someone humming. Everything in the System appeared pixelated, like little dots running together. Alice's face blended into reds and yellows. "Alice, I…" He touched his face one last time, to remember what might have been.

She touched his shoulder, but he couldn't feel it. He couldn't feel anything. "Erik, just hold on. It'll be okay."

He screamed. Or maybe just thought he did. The pixels turned to teardrops and dripped into blackness, swirling together and circling into a drain.

"Erik!" He heard her cry his name once in the distance. Then Alice was gone.

Or, rather, he was gone.

Light blinded him as the goggles and helmet were ripped from his face. Cold air hit his skin.

The humming stopped. Unable to move, he stared upwards at a white ceiling. He sharply inhaled a breath of real air.

A voice said - "Time to wake up, Mr. Sunshine."

* * *

In the early evening, the three of them had gathered in Corey's room to chat and kill time, desperately waiting for Daniel to contact them. Gabby discussed Erik's likely condition. "I'll need to check his heart and blood pressure, make sure everything is where it should be. He'll be able to eat and drink very slowly. And…" Gabby briefly glanced at Christine. "Well, there are other functions that I'll make sure are in order."

Christine nodded. She certainly wasn't embarrassed by anything. She suspected that Gabby still wasn't quite used to the idea of her and Erik's relationship.

"So we'll take him several states away to recooperate," said Corey. "We don't know what kind of people Hope will have pursuing us."

"I didn't even think about that," muttered Christine.

"I don't think she wants anyone to know what was going on there," Corey replied. "No police or media or anything like that. But we'll still have to be very careful."

"I wish Daniel would get the information to us," said Gabby. "How much longer does he need?"

Corey shook his head, obviously annoyed, too. "If he hasn't sent me anything by tomorrow, I'll contact him."

"Make sure he gives us details about how to get inside," said Gabby.

"I will."

"And the layout of the facility."

"Right."

"Is this place guarded?" Gabby pressed.

"I'll make sure to ask," said Corey with an edge.

The conversation took on a cranky tone because they were all so damned scared and exhausted. Christine and Gabby soon rose to go to their room and try to get some sleep. Just as they'd stepped into the hall, Christine heard Corey's phone ring behind them. She and Gabby paused. Corey answered, and a frantic conversation began –

"Alice?! How did you - What? No, no we're not there yet. I haven't heard from Dan— _What?!_ Oh my God. Okay. No, it definitely wasn't us. No. I don't know. Thank you for calling. Yeah, I'll let you know as soon as we figure it out. All right. Yeah, go back in. There's nothing you can do right now. You've done everything you can. Thanks." Corey hung up. His arm dropped limply to his side.

Christine leaned against the wall for support. "What?" she whispered.

Corey gave her a pained look. "Erik disappeared. He vanished from the System. Alice called the emergency line and had them pull her out. She wanted to make sure it was our doing. Obviously, it wasn't…"

Christine sunk to her knees. "No," she whispered. "No. We can't be too late. Please no."

"What do we do?" asked Gabby.

"I'm calling Daniel," stated Corey. "It's urgent now." Corey whirled around and went into the room, shutting the door behind him

Gabby crouched next to her on the floor. "We'll get there," she said. "It'll be okay."

"What if they're doing the surgery right now?" asked Christine. "What if it's just…Oh God, Gabby. I don't think I can take it, if he dies. After all this."

"Sh," Gabby whispered. "We are going to get there in time. We will save him." Gabby gently embraced her. Christine was thankful to be able to wrap her arms around someone, even though she barely knew this woman.

Corey was in there for a while. Christine could faintly hear his angry voice but couldn't discern what he was saying.

Finally, Corey pushed open the door. They both stared up at him as though he were a messiah. "I've got the info. Everyone get their luggage, and let's go. I'll check out, pay them whatever they want." Christine forced herself up onto shaky legs and raced forward with Gabby back to their room. They gathered all their belongings. She probably forgot something during the rush, a stray sock or a razor. They met Corey at the front of the motel and jumped into the vehicle. Corey pulled out of the parking lot and soon sped onto a country road.

"Don't speed," said Gabby, her hands clenched. She was sitting in the front seat. "We can't get pulled over."

Corey managed to slow down to only five miles over the limit. There was still some daylight. Brownish-green fields and a few trees passed in a quick blur, along with metal industrial buildings and the occasional gas station. Christine barely remembered that drive, only that she wanted to throw up during most of it. It went by quickly and seemed to take an eternity.

After thirty minutes or so, Corey slowed slightly. "Daniel said it's a little tricky to find the first time. You guys keep an eye out for hidden side roads that don't have names." She and Gabby did look around, but Corey found it first. He took a fast turn, knocking Christine's head into the window.

"Slow down," Gabby scolded.

"Sorry," he muttered.

Christine reeled. "Please, please, please," she whispered beneath her breath. "Please, please."

The road became bumpier, and there were no other cars. There must have been water nearby because the vegetation quickly grew thicker. They were beneath a bunch of leafy trees, and it was growing darker and darker as the sun continued its descent. _Is this really the right place? It didn't seem right at all. What if Daniel had lied?_ Again, she swallowed back the urge to vomit as the car continued to rumble up a hill and over bumps.

Then she saw it in the distance. A one-story grey building, about the size of a gas station or a small doctor's office. "Is that it?" she asked.

"I think so," Corey murmured. He switched off the headlights.

There were no signs on the building or in front of it. It was definitely a place that didn't want to stand out, almost looking abandoned. Except a light out front was on and the meager landscaping looked maintained. Christine leaned forward and gripped the edge of the seat.

"Daniel said that it could be guarded," said Corey. "He said to go through the back. He gave me the number to enter for the security system."

"I don't see a security guard," Gabby replied, stretching out her neck as she stared from side to side. "There aren't any cars here."

"Nope," said Corey. "Looks dead to me. It's eerie." He parked about fifty yards away, the car halfway behind a tree. He turned off the engine. They all sat in the silence, paralyzed. "Well," he began with a swallow. "I should go in alone and check things out. I'll leave the key. If I'm not back in ten minutes, get out of here. Call Nadir."

"Are you armed?" asked Gabby.

"Yes."

"I should go in with you," said Christine.

"God knows who's in there," Corey replied, shaking his head. "Only one of us should go first. Please. Stay here with Gabby. If I find Erik, if it's safe, I'll motion for you both to come inside. I promise."

She knew that he was right. Why needlessly risk two lives? The danger in this mission suddenly became a hundred times more real. Corey had a _gun._ There was no one around to help them. They could all die, and no one would ever know. This was not SCI. "Be careful," Christine whispered.

* * *

This was by far the most precarious situation that Corey had ever put himself in. Before, the worst he'd faced was being fired. Maybe arrested. But this…He was acutely aware of the gun in his waistband. He didn't want to carry it around and scare anyone, only protect himself.

He kept a constant eye on his surroundings and saw nothing but trees and shadows. At the entrance, he entered the number in the security pad. The door clicked. Corey slowly opened it and peeked inside. The light was on. As Daniel had described, the front room looked like an office lobby. It was clean. There were a couple of chairs with pinks cushions set around a wooden table.

He walked inside and gently shut the door behind him. Corey paused and listened. There was a faint mechanical humming in the distance, maybe the air conditioner.

Corey slowly crept down the hall. He glanced into the first room and saw nothing but computers and file cabinets. None of the monitors were on. He thought he faintly smelled coffee.

Corey nervously swallowed as he looked into the next room. He definitely recognized the equipment. The helmet, chair, and goggles. The wires and buttons. Hadn't Daniel said that Erik should be in here? But the room was empty. Some of the equipment was still on. Corey placed a hand on the seat but couldn't tell from the temperature whether a living person had recently been in it. He withdrew his hand and hesitated. Maybe he was turned around.

He left that room and glanced down both sides of the hallway, making sure he was still alone. He started to enter the next room and first saw what looked like a hospital bed. A television was mounted on the wall. Some books and magazines lay on the bedside table, along with a half-filled glass of water. _Creepy._

Then Corey noticed chains and – _shackles?!_ \- lying on the floor, right beside the end of the bed. They were in a haphazard pile. His brow furrowed, and he felt a growing knot in his stomach.

Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw something else lying near his feet.

Corey sharply glanced down.

 _Someone_ lying near his feet.

He clamped a hand over his mouth to muffle the cry of horror that emerged from his throat. Corey finally managed to say, "Hope? Isabel? Isabel! Hope!"

He checked for a pulse, pressing his clammy fingers against her grotesquely bruised neck. Her skin was cold. Her eyes were closed. And he swore that there was a faint smile on her bluish lips.

Finding no sign of life, Corey ran.


	46. Chapter 46

Sorry for the long delay. I went on vacation and then caught that fun post-trip cold, so my mind has been elsewhere. This chapter is shorter, but we're about to the climax. Hope you're all still reading and enjoying.

 **Read and Review!**

Christine's hands gripped the back of the driver's seat. Gabby sat up straight and leaned forward. Their eyes were locked on that building as the torturous seconds ticked by.

"How much longer?" Christine whispered.

"Three minutes to go," Gabby replied.

Could they really do it? Drive away and leave Corey here? She didn't think they could.

And Erik. Where was her Erik?

"I'll drive," said Gabby.

Robotically, as though they were discussing where to go to dinner, Christine replied, "I'll call Nadir." A pause. "We should have done that in the first place."

"I know you were concerned about how he'd treat Erik."

"I am. But…I think we could get him to change his mind. Don't you?"

"I think so," Gabby murmured. "He's a good man."

"He is." Despite everything, despite her anger, she believed this. Nadir had made bad choices. But he had made them with good intentions.

Gabby looked as though she were preparing to scoot over into the driver's seat. She picked up the keys. They jingled and startled Christine, who was just about to say, "Let's give him another five minutes."

They both saw it at the same time. A figure was flying toward them in the darkness. _Friend or foe?_

"Corey," Christine whispered first.

"Oh, thank God," Gabby murmured.

But his expression made Christine feel sick all over again. Corey sprinted toward the car and threw open the door. He climbed inside and locked it. He was panting, and the color had drained from his face. Christine's heart dropped. She tried to speak, but a gasp came out.

Corey glanced at her in the rearview mirror. He must have read her face. "No. No, Christine." Out of breath, he tried to reassure her. "Listen. I didn't see him. I didn't see Erik."

"Then what's wrong?!" Gabby asked.

He exhaled. "Hope is dead. She's been murdered, I think."

"Oh my God," said Gabby, placing a hand over her mouth.

"I didn't see anyone else in there. It was quiet. After I saw her body, I didn't stay very long."

Christine's hands trembled. "Then…what…where…?"

"I don't know."

"It didn't look self-inflicted, did it?" Gabby asked after a moment. "She obviously wasn't stable."

"I'm pretty sure it wasn't," Corey replied. "No sign of that. I think someone strangled her."

Gabby continued, "Do you think it could have been someone trying to cover up this operation? God knows who she had helping her."

"I don't think they would have left a body."

"Then what happened?" Christine frantically asked. "Where is Erik?"

Corey hesitated. "Maybe Nicholas escaped. I think I saw his shackles in the room where Hope was lying."

Christine gasped. "Then where is Erik?!"

"Maybe with Nicholas."

"Oh my God!" Gabby exclaimed. "Why would he take Erik?"

"I'm not sure. Except that, when Erik described their interactions in the System, it seemed like…I don't know. Like Nicholas wanted Erik on his side. Nicholas wants Erik's help. For now, that might be a good thing, right?"

Neither Christine nor Gabby answered that question. Gabby asked, "What do we do?"

"I don't know," said Corey. "They could be anywhere." He looked around. "I don't see Hope's car."

Christine realized, "If Nicholas found her keys…"

"Yep," Corey murmured.

A moment of silence passed.

Christine finally said, "It's time to call Nadir."

"Yep," said Corey. "We need all the help we can get now."

Neither of them moved to make the call. Christine slowly pulled out her phone and dialed. _This wasn't going to be a fun conversation, and everyone knew it._ It rang three times before Nadir answered, "Christine?" His voice was warm.

"Hi," she said.

"This is a surprise. How are you?" Her lack of response made him ask – "Are you okay?"

"Not really."

"Where are you? What's wrong?"

"Here, I'm going to put you on speaker," she said.

"Why?"

She didn't reply. Christine pushed a button and held the phone up so that everyone could talk to him.

Corey awkwardly chuckled and said, "Hey, Nadir. It's Corey. What's up?"

"Corey?! I see you've met Christine." Now Nadir's voice became suspicious. "What the hell is going on?"

"Hello, Nadir," said Gabby.

"Why do I have the feeling that I should have been invited to this party?!" Nadir nearly shouted.

"Well, here's your chance to come," said Corey. And then he began to explain, "Christine contacted me. I got her into the System…"

"Christine, I told you to let it be!" Nadir exclaimed. "What were you all thinking?"

Christine harshly replied, "When did you plan to tell us about Nicholas and Isabel?"

A pause. "Yes. I know…"

"How dare you?" she continued. "You just handed Erik over to her, knowing that - "

"Her motives were the same as mine," Nadir interrupted. "What was the difference?"

"Erik is not Nicholas!"

"Woah," said Corey. "Right now is not the time for that debate. Look, Nadir. This has all gone to hell real fast." He quickly told Nadir about Hope's lobotomy plans for Erik. And about Nicholas going into the System and the havoc he had caused there. About their suspicions that Hope was doing something pretty evil in that building.

Then Corey told Nadir what he had just discovered.

Nadir gasped. "Are you sure you're safe?"

"For now," said Corey. "We don't see anyone else out here."

"What a mess," Nadir muttered. "I shouldn't have trusted her."

"Ya think?" Christine snapped.

"I'm sorry," said Nadir. "I really am. But what else was I going to do? Send him to jail?"

"You could have taken care of him while I…" _Worked out my head? Traveled aimlessly around with a band?_ Corey was right. Now was not the time to figure out all their choices and mistakes. "Will you help us?" she asked.

"Of course," said Nadir. "I'll be there as fast as I can. I'll see what kind of flights I can get at the last moment. If nothing is available, I'll drive."

"What do we do in the meantime?" asked Corey.

"You do nothing! This is incredibly dangerous. Erik and Nicholas are together."

"They are not together!" Christine replied. "They're not in crime together. Erik is weak. He's probably a hostage. Or just trying to survive. You cannot come here and hurt him."

"All right," Nadir replied. "We are going to find them. That's it. All right? We'll figure out the rest later."

"Promise me that you will not hurt him or put him in jail," Christine ordered.

"I promise." Nadir continued, "Look. Don't use credit cards anywhere else. Do you have cash?"

"I have some," said Gabby.

"All right. Use that. Stay off the map. If Hope is dead, if Vaughan is loose, I don't want any of us connected to that. This situation could deteriorate quickly."

"Sure thing," said Corey.

Already, Nadir was helping them. They would be a team of four now. A computer whiz, a soprano, a nurse, and an ex-cop. Christine inwardly winced. Somehow, her role seemed the least helpful.

As Corey gave Nadir directions, Christine stared out into the darkness and wondered where her Erik was. So close…Only to lose him all over again.

* * *

It was darkly comical.

When _he_ had first woken up, for the briefest of moments - _he_ had actually thought that the blond-headed boy staring down at him was Raoul Chagny. His brain was in a million different times and places. In a hoarse voice, more of a whisper, he had asked, "How is she?"

The blond head tilted to the side. _"What?"_

And _he_ realized - green eyes. Not blue.

Green eyes with a hint of madness and a sprinkle of sadism. Then _he_ remembered who the blond boy really was.

He had not known if Nicholas Vaughan was there to kill him. _He_ almost didn't care either way. It was that 'almost' that kept him alive over the next wretched hours.

Nicholas's eyes scanned his body. "You don't look so well. Guess it's from lying here for months."

 _He_ did not speak. His confused brain attempted to analyze.

"How long is it going to take you to get it together?" Vaughan circled him.

"I have never had it together," _he_ whispered.

Nicholas laughed. "How long is it going to take you to get up?"

 _He_ lied a little. "A week."

That seemed to satisfy Vaughan. "All right. I guess I'll have to drag you to the car."

"Delightful."

"Don't you want to know where we're going?"

"If I did, I would have asked."

Again, Vaughan chuckled and leaned in toward _his_ face. "We're going to have some fun. I haven't got it all worked out yet. But you can help. I know you can." Vaughan poked _his_ left cheek with an index finger. "Damn, you're ugly."

 _He_ maintained eye contact. " _Really?_ And all this time I thought I was a handsome fellow."

Nicholas grinned. "No, I like it. When people see you coming, they know they're going to die. We contrast with each other. We'll go down in history."

 _What the fuck? He_ almost wanted Vaughan to off him and spare him this ridiculousness. There were two reasons he didn't directly make the request.

First, he wasn't sure if he could convince Vaughan to grant him a quick death. Vaughan might prefer a prolonged torture. And _he_ just _…_ wasn't in the mood for that.

Second…second _he_ still could not get his head in order. He vividly and painfully remembered letting Christine go. He remembered lying down and being very ready to die. And then Khan had come down into the theater. With Hope. They had sedated him. He recalled being on the airplane and realizing that Hope was Isabel Vaughan. He had been shackled, immobilized, and brought into this building. Daniel had said, "Welcome back, Erik! I missed you."

 _He_ had replied, "I cannot say that the feeling is mutual, you vile twit."

And then… _And then what?_ What had happened afterwards? He must have gone back into the System. He could recall bits and pieces of his time there, but he could not connect it all. He could still feel stars exploding in his brain. Every part of that world, of SCI, seemed far away.

Yet he was certain that something important had occurred there. He felt it. He felt that he needed to remember before he opted for death.

On the outside, he remained cold and stoic and sarcastic. He played Vaughan's game to survive.

"We need to hide and come up with a plan," Vaughan said, pacing. "A big plan. But first, let's get out of here. Before someone finds us."

"Your mother won't be very happy about this," _he_ replied. "Will she?" He subtly attempted to figure out what the hell was going on.

Vaughan twitched and blinked. "Mother isn't a concern now. Mother…didn't understand us, did she?"

 _He_ quickly read between the lines. "Did you kill your mother, Nicholas?" Nicholas blinked twice. "Well. That takes care of that, doesn't it?"

"Poor mother," murmured Nicholas, looking down with a flicker of regret in his eyes. "But there was just no other way. She didn't understand." He shrugged and looked back up. "Nice job getting rid of Daniel. I would have liked to have slit his throat. But your way worked."

"Daniel," _he_ slowly repeated. How he had accomplished that? What had transpired in the System? _Alice. Alice was the last one I saw. I remember that. What did she say?_

And he had the feeling that he had interacted with Vaughan before, too. In the System? His lack of memory was horrific. It made him unable to plan and put Vaughan several steps ahead of him.

Nicholas disappeared for a moment. "Good news," he said upon returning. "There's a gurney. I can just roll you into that. More fun than dragging you."

"Depends on your definition of fun, I suppose."

Nicholas nearly giggled. _His_ performance was perfect. _He_ just had to stay alive long enough to remember…

Vaughan thoughtfully tapped his fingers against his cheek. "What else are we going to need?"

"Food," _he_ stated. "Take all food and water from this facility."

"Yeah," Vaughan agreed. "I knew you were going to be useful. I've never really done this before. Gone out on my own. It's exhilarating. We're going to be the best team ever."

 _Idiot._ _He_ was too weak to do anything, and Nicholas was going to get them killed or arrested.

 _He_ was pathetic. He could barely move. Every inch of his body ached. He needed medical assistance in more ways than one.

And-

He could not keep from thinking about her. That pain was less sharp that he remembered it, perhaps numbed with drugs. He felt happy when he thought of her. That was very sick, wasn't it? He had caused her misery, and thinking of her should only bring him misery.

Yet Christine still felt like… _home_ to him. He felt as though he had seen her recently. Was he insane? Or delusional?

The process of Vaughan rolling him onto the gurney and stuffing him into Hope's vehicle – hands carelessly pulling and pushing him, rolling him over, Vaughan's irritating commentary - well, _he_ was so very ready to just die. What was the goddamned point?

But something kept him alive, some distant twitching at the back of his brain.

 _What a stupid feeling. And now I am in the back of a vehicle, driving down the highway with a moron. I have truly reached the lowest point of my life._

 _What had Alice said? "Erik, just hold on. It'll be okay."_

 _Yes. That's what she had said. Before he had exited the System._

 _Liar._

* * *

"You're sure he wasn't in there?" Christine asked as they sat in the darkness after their call with Nadir.

"Nearly positive."

"Erik is so weak right now," said Gabby, wringing her hands.

"Then he's probably biding his time, waiting to get stronger," said Corey.

Christine nodded. If Erik could at least think, he would hopefully know what to do in that situation. He was so smart.

Corey glanced at them both. "You guys should get some sleep. You'll feel terrible if you don't."

"I think we should be looking," Christine replied. She was starting to feel stir-crazy.

"We have no idea which direction they went in. It'd be impossible."

"Then how will Nadir know what to do?" Christine asked.

"I don't know," said Corey. "Maybe he has connections. Maybe…"

"What?" asked Gabby.

"Well." Corey tilted his head. "If they took Isabel's keys, maybe they have her phone, too. I wonder if Nadir would know how to trace it."

"Oh my God," said Christine. "You're right. That could be it. I have her number."

"Don't call it," said Corey.

"I won't." Although she wanted to. It felt like her last connection to Erik. But he would probably be too weak to answer. And Nicholas might get rid of the phone.

Christine tried to sleep, but it was impossible. She pressed on her stomach to try to make the aching go away. They were given some relief when they found out that Nadir had found a last minute flight. It would still take him hours to arrive. Corey drove around a little to break up the time. They ate at McDonald's and paid with cash. She couldn't get a cheeseburger and realized it was just past four in the morning.

It was around noon of the next day when they met Nadir at a park with an orange plastic playground. He drove up in a black rental car that shined under the southwest sun. Stepping out of the vehicle, Nadir looked as though he hadn't slept in a while either. His white shirt was rumpled.

Gabby embraced him. Corey shook his hand.

Christine stayed back, though, watching him with her arms crossed.

"Christine, I'm sorry," he said, approaching her.

"It's not just that you didn't tell me," she said. "You didn't even ask what they were going to do to him. You didn't check up on him."

Nadir thrust out his hands. "What did you want me to do instead?"

She shook her head. "It doesn't matter now. It's the past, and I kind of understand. I just…I need you to be good to him now."

"Fine. And then what?"

"And then he'll be with me."

" _What?"_

"I want to be with him," she said. Before he could interrupt, she continued, "I know you don't understand. You don't have to. But I'll take care of him. If he…if he still wants that. We'll be together."

Nadir stared at her as though she'd grown an extra arm.

Corey jumped in, "Right now, we just have to find them, right?"

Shaking his head, Nadir finally looked away from her. "Yes. Exactly."

"I was thinking," said Corey, "that maybe they have Hope's phone. Could we trace it?"

Nadir didn't appear too optimistic. "If it's turned on, that's technically possible. But difficult without the help of law enforcement."

"You don't have connections?" Gabby asked.

"Oh, if I tell everyone that Vaughan is on the loose, I'll have more help than you can imagine. They'll be found quickly."

"But we don't want that," said Christine with dismay.

"No," Nadir agreed. "So trying to convince law enforcement or wireless service providers to help us, without explaining, is going to be very difficult. Let's try to think of something else."

There were kids at the playground, and some of the parents were beginning to stare at the four of them. Nadir noticed, too. "Let's get out of here." As they walked, he asked, "Corey, you didn't see anything in that building, did you? Anything that could help us?"

"No, but I didn't stay that long. Nothing really jumped out at me."

"Were there computers?"

"I think so. Why?"

"We can see if Nicholas did any searches before he left."

* * *

Vaughan had turned up the volume of the radio to an excruciating level.

It was not that _he_ didn't understand the appeal of the grunge era. But his eardrums were about to be destroyed by an electric guitar. Isabel apparently had had satellite radio.

He continued to try and sort out his circumstances. Something of significance had happened within SCI. And his only source of information was this deranged idiot.

"How you doing back there?" Vaughan asked, grinning at him in the rearview mirror.

"Wonderful." He kept his eyes closed. His voice was still very raspy. Each bounce of the vehicle made his bones ache. _He_ knew that he needed to take control of the situation. But first he had to form an understanding as to how he had wound up here. Questions showed weakness, so he would have to be careful. "You said that I ridded us of Daniel. How did I do this?"

Vaughan turned down the radio. "No idea."

His head throbbed with irritation. "Then how did you know I was responsible for that outcome?"

"Because I assume you made a plan. You don't remember? We talked at the bar. We couldn't think of much. So I took care of Mother. You took care of Daniel, I guess."

"We encountered each other?" _And I agreed to work with this moron? Why? Why would I even bother attempting to escape? To come back here? What the hell was wrong with me? Why?_

"Yeah. You really don't remember? They did a number on you in there. You were pretty pathetic."

"Was I?"

"Yeah. You were boring. And you had some annoying friends. The first time I went in there, you looked stoned. You wouldn't respond to anything. This bitch tried to get me to stop bothering you. But I think I woke you up."

"Why?"

"Because you were awake the second time I went in there." Nicholas shrugged. "Who cares? Fuck that place. No reason to think about it now."

Bits and pieces continued to return to him. Yes…Alice. Alice had confronted Nicholas. _And he remembered interacting with...Corey. And - blonde hair._

 _That would have been…Leigh. That was the name of that girl. With the blonde hair._

Although he did not sense that he had seen that girl in a long time. He didn't remember interacting with her. _Damn it. I cannot think._ His mind had always been one of his best assets, the offset to his face, and he could not pull it together.

"That place was a prison, and now we're free." Nicholas laughed. "Free!" He turned up the volume again.

 _Free._ He knew that he was not free. This situation would have one of two outcomes.

Either Nicholas would grow tired of him, of his weakness, and kill him.

Or _he_ would grow strong enough to put a quick end to this.

 _Christine._ She would not leave his mind. Still, he tried to keep thoughts of her at bay. It was agony to want her so badly when it had all gone so wrong…

"Is it safe to turn this on?" asked Vaughan. _He_ opened his eyes. Nicholas was holding up what was likely Isabel's phone.

"Leave it off until you need it," he muttered.

"Cool," said Vaughan with a nod, tossing it into the driver's seat.

His eyes followed the cell phone. If he gained enough strength to get to it, who would he even call? Khan would kill him.

That shouldn't matter.

And yet – it did.

* * *

Corey and Nadir were in the building for about twenty minutes. Christine and Gabby waited in the car.

It was less scary this time. The sun was out, and Nadir knew what he was doing. Still, she felt like precious seconds were ticking by. Erik could be traveling farther and farther away.

Finally, the two men emerged, walking quickly but not frantically. Walking with purpose. Christine's heart skipped a beat as Corey opened the door. "Nadir was right," he said. "Nicholas looked up directions. Not to a specific place but - we think they're heading west."

"And we're following?" she asked.

"Yep. Let's go."


	47. Chapter 47

I know, I know. We're near the end of the story, and I make you wait. Bad Quiet. It always seems like there's more distractions in the summer. Unlike the winter, when it's easier to curl up under a blanket and write. In any case, I hope you enjoy the chapter.

 **Read and Review!**

"What you did was dangerous."

Corey sharply looked up from the gas pump in his hand. They had all stopped to fill up their cars. Gabby was riding with Nadir now. Christine was still with Corey. "What?" Corey asked, almost too exhausted to be offended.

"What were you thinking?" Nadir asked. "Letting her into SCI? Sneaking her in, I assume. You could have gotten her hurt. Hell, she's in danger now. She could be prosecuted for her involvement."

"Alice was upset. Christine was upset. I didn't see another choice."

"Alice and Christine would have been fine in time."

Corey blinked at the implications. "Look. I get that you have a different perspective. But I don't regret what I've done. I'm not as hardened as you, I guess."

"I'm not hardened. I'm realistic." A pause. "I don't know what she's doing," Nadir muttered.

"I think it's pretty obvious what she's doing."

"She's young. She needs counseling."

"Whatever you think she needs, I hope you don't have any plans to betray her," said Corey. "I'm not on your side if you do that. Neither is Gabby."

"And what if Erik _is_ working with Nicholas? What if they escaped together?"

"If you can prove that, then sure. It's going to bring up a difficult situation. But we have no idea what's going on." Corey lowered his voice and said, "It's crossed my mind that Erik might not even be alive by now."

"Mine, too," Nadir admitted. "But if he is alive, I have no idea what to do with him. No idea where to take him."

"Where to take both of them," Corey softly corrected.

"Nicholas? I would take him straight to - "

"No. Her and Erik."

Nadir shook his head. "She's not going to leave it alone, is she?"

"Nope."

Grumbling to himself, Nadir hung up the gas pump and climbed in the car with Gabby.

Corey finished soon afterwards and got in with Christine.

"What were you two talking about?" she asked with a hint of suspicion.

Corey told her the truth. He had chosen his side and wasn't going to hide anything from her. Christine glared at the other car. "I don't trust him," she said. "I need him to help, but I do not trust him."

"I know," said Corey. "Maybe Gabby can talk some sense into him."

"Either way, we can't let him get to Erik without us. We have to keep an eye on him."

Corey nodded. He had been thinking the same thing.

* * *

"This is entirely screwed up." Nadir pulled out of the gas station parking lot and back onto the road.

"What do you mean?" Gabby asked.

"I can't believe I'm even having these conversations. Releasing Erik back out into the world? With the girl he kidnapped and terrorized! I feel like I'm in a different reality."

"Once upon a time, you believed that Erik could change."

"I was proven wrong. That's why I put him into SCI. Now that that's a failure, I don't know what to do."

Gabby stared out the window at the passing fields. "If Erik comes out of this okay, I say you give them some quiet time together. They both need to rest and heal. And then we can make other decisions. Would it kill you to do that?"

"Possibly. I possibly might die from all this."

"Oh, Nadir." Gabby gave him a gentle whack on the leg. "You're becoming as cynical as Erik, you know?"

"That's fantastic – that he's rubbing off on me. That's really what I wanted out of life."

"As sarcastic as him, too."

"Stop. Before I drive us off the road. You know, I just wanted all this to go away. SCI was last my idea to fix it. There aren't any good choices left."

"Maybe not. But you're still going to have to make a choice. Do you think that me, Corey, and Christine are all bad people who want to do something harmful?"

"No. I think you're all good people who are very naïve to the situation."

"Don't call me naïve, Nadir. I was a single mother on food stamps. I held my baby daughter at night while gunshots rattled our windows. And then I climbed out of that situation, using ways I'm proud of and not so proud of, to take a position with one of the most innovative companies in the world. I know what life is like. I may be a lot of things, but I'm not naïve."

"I apologize. You aren't. You're kind and helpful. But she's naïve. I stand by that."

"Or maybe she's just hopeful."

"So was Hope. And look at where it got her."

* * *

When Vaughan wasn't looking, _he_ began to exercise his muscles. He would subtly move his fingers, wrist, elbows, and knees. The faster he could gain his strength back, the better.

Four hours into the drive, Vaughan had stopped to buy gas. Nicholas had found a dark blue baseball cap while at the facility, and that was his only disguise. Did the police know yet? Were they being tracked? When they listened to the normal radio, there were no news broadcasts of any significance. After paying with cash inside and returning to the vehicle, Vaughan did not seem concerned. Still, _he_ knew it was only a matter of days before they were discovered. And then – death or jail? He already knew the answer to that question.

 _He_ also knew that he needed food and water but did not want to ask for it until he could hold it to his own lips. Having Vaughan feed him would be repulsive. Yet time was short, and his hideous body could only go on for so long. How would he ever gain his strength back before this all went to hell?

Vaughan was also becoming restless, caught between wanting to escape and needing to cause chaos. "What do we do?" Nicholas asked as he drove. "Where should we go? Can we get out of the country?"

"Unlikely. No way in hell either of us are getting on a plane. Perhaps a boat. But unlikely."

"Then what the fuck do we do?" Vaughan snapped.

"Lay low. Stay away from the authorities. And when I recover, I will…help you." _Help you remove your head._

"That sounds stupid and boring."

"Yes, you will be surprised to discover how dull being an escaped criminal can be. You will sit in darkness for hours or quietly move from one place to the next, with no conversation or entertainment."

"There has to be a better way."

"There isn't."

These conversations began to go in circles. Vaughan refused to accept the futility of the situation. They could not enter another country without significant risk. There would be no grand ending of death and destruction; they did not have the weapons for that. Vaughan did not have the skills nor the connections to obtain them.

"Maybe we could do a bunch of smaller things," said Vaughan.

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"Like the Unabomber. That way we won't get caught, but we'll spread our message across the country."

"And where do you plan to obtain the materials for that operation?"

"That's your job."

"Is it?"

How much longer was he going to be able to hold off Nicholas? He continued to exercise his arms and fingers. And he still tried to remember… _what was he supposed to remember?_

Alice. Alice had seemed fine with the fact that he was leaving SCI, as though he were supposed to be leaving. But why? Why the hell would he have wanted to come back?

There was no reason. Again, he saw a flash of blonde hair and blue eyes. He saw a smile.

But it was sick. It was so fucking sick. _He_ had let her go. He had to let her go. He was terrible for her. She was fine now. It was time for him to die.

Vaughan continued, "We need like a pressure cooker. Or some fertilizer. Something. That's your job, to figure that out."

 _He_ already knew how to do all of that. But he was not telling Vaughan how to accomplish it.

 _Why not?_

Some distant and primitive part of his brain spoke to him. Why not let Vaughan have his fun? This was all going to end soon. _He_ would be in the black void of death where nothing mattered. Nothing at all.

 _Why not?_

 _I do not want to disappoint her. I do not want her to hate me, wherever she is. I do not want to be a monster. Even more of a monster._

He wondered what she was doing now. _Sick._

* * *

Late in the evening, they had stopped at an Arby's, ordering at the drive-through, hoping no one noticed them. They parked in the lot and all climbed into Nadir's car so that they could eat together. No one said very much. They were exhausted.

Christine's fear had intensified. Erik couldn't be doing well. How would they ever find him with such vague directions?

Corey must have seen her expression. "Are you okay?" he asked.

She nodded and swallowed down her roast beef sandwich. "Fine."

"No, it's not fine," declared Nadir. Christine was afraid that he was going to say something bad about Erik. Instead, he said, "We could be going the wrong way. Nicholas could have changed his mind, taken a turn somewhere. This is becoming an impossible situation."

"And Erik needs medical attention," added Gabby. Christine's heart clenched.

"The only way to find them may be to get the police involved," said Nadir. "We'd have lot of resources."

"Erik won't let them take him alive," Christine protested.

"He will if he can't move. He'll be hospitalized."

"And then taken to jail?" Christine asked.

Nadir nodded. "Yes. But he'll be alive and…"

"Can take it from there?" Corey suggested.

Nadir hesitated and then nodded again.

It sounded like a terrible idea. But Erik dying sounded much worse.

How much longer before the final decision had to be made?

Looking around at the somber expressions, she knew they were all wondering the same thing.

* * *

After driving for nearly twenty-four hours, stopping for gas along the way, Vaughan had pulled over for the next night. He had taken a dirt road near a small town and parked next empty desert. Saguaro cactuses stood tall in the distance. For once, Vaughan was quiet, staring out the window, perhaps sleeping.

 _He_ was too miserable to sleep. His mouth was dry. He felt a growing pain in his stomach that extended down into his legs, a sharp ache. His body was screaming for basic needs. Whenever he did drift off, he saw flashes of things that he did not understand. A table at a restaurant with dinner. A starry night sky. A cliff. Perhaps he was hallucinating, on the verge of death.

Maybe he would have willed himself to death, if Vaughan had not spoken in the silence, his voice just above a whisper - "You know what I want to do before I die?" _He_ did not answer because he didn't really care. "Get laid. Get some pussy. I never have…"

An unpleasant feeling settled over him. A warning bell sounded in his mind. And there was the passing thought that he would not experience physical intimacy before death either – because he would never use depraved methods to obtain it.

"I just want to see what all the fuss is about, you know?" Vaughan continued. "Just once. After that, we'll have our fun. We'll try to do something big, once you figure it out." Vaughan turned around to face him, nearly sneering. "Have you figured it out?"

"Slowly," he lied.

"Well, hurry up." Vaughan turned back around and stretched in the front seat, arms high over his head. "This town looks stupid. They're having some stupid parade for their stupid high school. I saw the big dumb sign. These people probably have IQs of like fifty." Vaughan chuckled. "God, maybe I'll be happy to die soon. Get away from the bullshit. Life is bullshit." Vaughan again turned around to face him again. "Why are you so quiet? You're terrible company. Just because you look dead doesn't mean you have to sound dead. Haha."

 _He_ showed no reaction. "I am thinking about our plan, of course."

"Oh. Good. It's about time you were useful."

In reality, _he_ was quietly considering what needed to happen. He was not going to gain his strength back in time to end this. Given his physical state, he would probably perish before he became strong again. Vaughan was going to do something wretched soon, possibly to a female. _His_ gazed wandered to the passenger seat. Where that damned phone was.

If nothing else, he would kill himself trying.

* * *

"If we don't find or hear anything by this evening, I say we call the cops," said Corey. After driving all night, they had stopped for a quick breakfast. It was a silent, sad meal. Christine could barely eat her hash brown.

"I agree," said Nadir.

"Yes," said Gabby. "For Erik's sake."

Christine's stomach tightened with terror. She knew what it all meant. Yet she couldn't protest.

Nadir gently added, "It won't be the end of the world. Maybe we can think of another plan while he's in the hospital."

She knew that he was trying to make her feel better. But she didn't know how much help he would be, given the past. And Gabby and Corey could do very little.

Before they left, they all went inside to use the bathroom. Christine washed her face and neck, knowing it would be some time before she took a shower. She redid her ponytail and put on a some lip gloss, trying to look like less of a zombie, then headed back outside. Corey and Gabby were already there.

When Nadir finally came out, he had a weird look on his face. Both alarmed and determined.

"Let's go," Nadir said in a sharp tone and rushed toward his car.

"Is something wrong?" asked Gabby.

"No, we just need to get going. We can't lose any more time."

Christine and Corey exchanged a concerned glance but obeyed.

"Don't stop following him," Christine murmured once they were in the car.

"I won't," Corey promised.

* * *

 _He_ had expected Vaughan to eventually begin driving again. Yet perhaps Vaughan did not know where to go. They remained in the same spot by the next morning.

The wheels in _his_ brain turned, and a pictured formed. He had an idea but braced himself for it all to go poorly. He said, "If I am to gather supplies for our mission, I need a source of information. I need to see which stores and types of facilities are nearby. I am unfamiliar with this area."

Vaughan slowly nodded. "Fine. How do we get that?"

"Your mother's phone. See if it has an Internet connection. We will use it quickly and then turn it off."

"Okay. Yeah, I guess we can't do much without knowing anything about this stupid place." Vaughan grabbed the phone from the driver's seat and turned it on. The phone beeped twice and then lit up. "Hm. It's password protected, but I think Mother used her birthday for everything." He typed it in. "Nope. Uh. Let's try my birthday." A pause. Vaughan's forehead momentarily crinkled. "Yep, that was it. I'm in. And it looks like there's Wi-Fi."

 _Inside, he smiled slightly. How far did he go without seeming suspicious?_ "I will search for information and return it to you." _He_ planned to quickly send Khan a text message with as much information as possible. _He_ would see how Khan responded, if he responded at all, and go from there.

But, amazingly, Vaughan made the entire thing incredibly easy. He said, "Fine. I need to get out and stretch. Take a walk. Do something. I can't sit here anymore. Maybe I'll check the town out. Find a knife or something."

"Don't get yourself caught."

"I won't." Vaughan climbed out of the car.

 _He_ slowly moved his weak arm up to near his face. Vaughan opened the backdoor that was nearest to _his_ head. "Put the phone into my palm," _he_ commanded. "I have use of my fingers."

"You don't look so good," Vaughan said as he forced the phone into _his_ curled skeletal hand.

"I am fine. I always look this way. It's part of my charm."

Vaughan chuckled. "Maybe." He shut the door and left.

 _He_ waited for ten minutes, hearing his own harsh breath in his ears. The vehicle quickly grew warmer. Unable to lift up his head, he inched the phone toward his face. He turned the screen toward him. The number he desired was in Hope's list of contacts, which made dialing easier. He scooted the phone beneath his ear and listened to it ring.

Once. Twice. _Come on, you idiot. Be useful for once in your damned life._

The ringing stopped.

There was a frantic – _"Hello?!"_

 _He_ smirked at that annoyingly familiar voice. "Hello, Khan."

"Oh my God. Where the hell are you?"

"I take it you are aware that this has all descended into madness?"

"Yes, I am very aware! Where are you?"

"Are the police following us?" _He_ at least wanted to know how close to doom he was.

"No," said Khan. "They don't know anything. Where are you?"

 _He_ didn't know if he believed his old friend. But perhaps it did not matter now. "I can give you basic directions." _He_ described the turns that Vaughan had taken, along with the last signs and exits he had seen. He described the landscape. And he described Vaughan's state of mind. "I think he will do something rather heinous soon. Yet I am not of much use, I fear. I am lying here like a sack of – "

"No, you've done well," Nadir interrupted. "I think I can figure it out. Thank you, Erik."

"How far are you?"

"Probably eight to nine hours if I go fast."

"I will attempt to keep him here. Vaughan has no idea what he is doing, where to go. He is unarmed, although that may change. The idiot is agitated. Beware."

"I will try to resolve it as calmly as possible."

"Resolve it however you need to." A pause. "Will you…do me a small favor?"

"Possibly," Khan joked. "What is it?"

"Will you somehow ensure that she knows that I was not an active participant in this. If Vaughan does something unsavory, I had no part in it. I really would like her to know that. Wherever she is, she might see it on the news." He hesitated, unsure of how much he wanted to know. "She is well, isn't she? With the Chagny boy, I assume. I…I just want her to be happy. My head has been rather mixed up, and I simply…Well, never mind. Madness, I suppose." A pause. "Khan, why don't you say something? Did you die?"

Nadir spoke slowly. "Erik - do you recall your most recent experiences in the System?"

"How did you – Never mind. What does that matter? Will you simply do as I ask for once?"

"Yes. Definitely. I will. I - "

"Fine, good. I must go before Vaughan returns and ends me in a less than pleasant fashion."

"All right. I'm coming. Try to leave the phone on, if you can. I won't call it. Try to keep him in one place."

"I will try. Goodbye, Khan. If I don't speak to you again, well…you know…I rather enjoyed making your life as complicated as possible. My pleasure, really."

"Thanks, Erik," Khan wryly replied. "Hold on. I'm coming."

"Adieu." _He_ hung up and erased all traces of the call from the phone. Then he began to do various searches so that it would appear he had been honest, researching nearby hardware and firearm and ammunition stores. Searches that would probably earn someone a visit from the FBI. He prepared an entire speech regarding what he had learned, what they would do next.

Vaughan eventually returned with an irritated frown on his face. He opened the door and climbed inside. "Not much going on around this place. It sucks. We should probably go."

"And where are we going?" _he_ asked, not hiding his own annoyance. "We should remain here until we decide on a permanent location to hide."

"I was thinking we should go to the Northeast. That's where all the action is. Either that or California. One of the big cities. San Fran or NYC."

"And do _what_?"

"That was for you to figure out! Did you?!" Vaughan snapped back.

 _He_ was going to give Vaughan enough knowledge to feel as though they were making progress – but not enough knowledge to be dangerous. Instead, he paused and tried a different approach. _He_ played into Vaughan's helplessness, his vulnerability. "Screaming at a dying monster is not going to get you very far," he began, his voice hoarse and tired, yet also apathetic. "You know what? I am not going to make it to New England or anywhere else. I have perhaps a day left. You will go on your own."

Silence. And then, with a bit of panic, "Why aren't you going to make it? What's wrong with you? Oh, you need water or something, right? Is that it? Why don't you just say something? God, you're fucking useless."

With a growl, Vaughan threw open the door to the driver's side. _He_ wondered if he had played this wrong. Was Vaughan going to kill him? _He_ braced himself. Did he have enough strength to raise his arms and wrap his hands around Nicholas's neck? Vaughan opened the door to the back and thrust a bottle of water out toward _him._ "Here!" Vaughan spat. "Fucking drink this."

With a roll of his eyes and without showing fear, he did so. He drank from the bottle. It was a bit humiliating, but his suspicions were confirmed. Vaughan might despise him. But Vaughan also desperately needed him.

"Is that good?" asked Vaughan. "Are you still going to die?"

"Perhaps," he calmly murmured. "Perhaps not. Let us stay here until evening, so that I may rest. And I will tell you everything that I have learned. Is that fair?"

"Fine. Sounds good," Vaughan muttered. "Just think of something, anything. Can we make a bomb?"

"A bomb beyond your wildest dreams, Boy."

 _Come on, Khan. Be useful for once. Get here._

* * *

Nadir had received the call while in the bathroom, washing his hands. He had been alone. The other three were waiting for him outside.

He did not withhold information from all parties to be cruel or manipulative. He did it to maintain sanity. Erik obviously had no memory of his interaction with Christine in SCI. Nadir wasn't about to try and explain all that, not when Erik needed to stay calm and collected.

And the others – Nadir didn't want them following him into danger. He needed to do this alone. He had trained for this moment throughout his entire life, to be sneaky, to possibly kill Vaughan. None of the other three had these skills. He didn't want them panicking and making terrible decisions.

This mission – it had to be like the old days. When it was just him and Erik, fighting against the darker forces of the world.

With the phone call, his heart did soften toward Erik. Maybe Erik had changed. In any case, Nadir did plan to try to save his life. But the best chance for that was if nobody panicked.

As Nadir drove, he kept an eye on his phone. No more calls or texts came in.

"Are you sure you're okay?" asked Gabby, looking at his face. "You haven't said anything for hours."

"Fine. I'm tired."

"Do you think we should call the police?"

"No," he said, more abruptly than he meant to. "I don't." Before she could ask more questions, Nadir said, "I want you to ride with Corey and Christine soon."

"Why? Don't you enjoy my fantastic company?" she teased. He could hear the hurt in her voice.

"I need time to think. I'm sorry. I'm under a lot of stress. I think the quiet will help."

"That's fine," she replied. "I understand."

"Thank you."

When they pulled over at a rest stop to stretch, the sky growing darker, Gabby headed for Corey's car. Nadir could feel them all watching him as he climbed back into his car. He took a sip of lukewarm coffee from a Styrofoam cup and inhaled. He turned off the radio.

How to do this?

After pulling back on the highway, he stay at seven over the speed limit. Corey maintained a close distance.

Another hour passed. Two hours. It was nearing the evening. He had to be getting close.

Nadir slowly picked up his phone as he pulled over into the next rest stop. His hand shook as he called Corey. "Hey," he said. "I'm exhausted. I need to close my eyes for a while, maybe an hour. Is that okay?"

"Sure," said Corey after a moment. "I probably need to do the same."

After hanging up, Nadir settled back into the seat and closed his eyes. He waited for about fifteen or twenty minutes, too nervous to even consider sleeping.

He opened his eyes and looked backwards. He squinted. It looked like everyone in the other car was asleep. At least Corey and Christine were, their heads tilted against the seat. He couldn't see Gabby in the back.

With a deep breath, Nadir started his car but kept the headlights switched off. He slowly drove away, keeping an eye on the car behind him. He sped up once he was back onto the highway. He went very fast, over ninety, praying that there were no police officers nearby. He glanced behind him and saw an empty road.

He was not being followed. Now was the time to act.


	48. Chapter 48

**What would a Quiet story be without cliffhangers, right? *hides* :)**

 _He_ managed to keep Vaughan there for the rest of the day. _He_ told him tales of their upcoming victory, of sky high casualty counts and pandemonium. "We simply have to be patient," he explained. "There is no reason to rush our plans."

"And what happens afterwards?" asked Vaughan. "After it's done."

"Suicide would likely be in our best interest, before they catch us. Are you up to that?"

Vaughan paused. "Or prison?"

"If you prefer. I certainly do not."

"Yeah, you wouldn't do well there," Vaughan agreed. "Maybe I'll end it, too. Prison sucks. But it did have television."

Late in the afternoon, Vaughan opened his door and stepped outside.

"Where are you going?"

"To look around again," Vaughan replied. "Maybe I can get some supplies. We're leaving tomorrow no matter what. I can't stand this stupid place. I think they're having their dumbass parade tonight."

There were benefits and disadvantages to having Nicholas gone when Khan arrived. In any case, _he_ could not control every aspect of this situation. Khan would have to figure it out.

His body was weak, but he still suspected that he was days from death.

What would Khan do to him?

More importantly, what did _he_ want Khan to do? Simply end him?

All he could do now was wait. And hope for…

Well, nothing. Despite the whispers at the back of his brain trying to keep him alive – likely evolutionary features inherited from a distance ancestor who must have been a hell of a lot prettier than he was - there was nothing.

* * *

Nadir took quick twists and turns, occasionally going onto unpaved side roads that passed by farms and abandoned rusted structures. He kept an eye on his rearview mirror. _Nothing._ He was alone. His heart thudded quickly in his chest. A layer of sweat gathered on his brow.

 _You'll be fine. You're up against a single person with little experience in actual combat. You just can't let Nicholas see you before you see him._

He slowed once he reached the town that Erik had mentioned. For such a small place, there were quite a few people out. _Must be some sort of social event, parade or carnival_. He drove past it at a speed that didn't make him stand out, grumbling whenever he was forced to stop for crowds of rowdy teenagers. _Didn't they know there was a monster amongst them?_

It took some time to figure out the road that led to Nicholas's car. Erik had been vaguer on that part, only saying that he thought it was past a gas station and bank. Thankfully, the town was small enough to narrow it down.

Nadir drove slowly, not wanting Vaughan to notice his approach. At first, he was afraid that he had gone in the wrong direction. Then he saw the car in the distance, parked behind a couple of cactuses, close to the base of a hill. Going off the road and into the desert, Nadir stopped about fifty meters away from it. He took out his handgun from a case under the passenger's seat. He would only use it if he had to.

Taking a deep breath, Nadir emerged from his car. It was still very warm out. He paused to see if anyone noticed him, if the other vehicle drove off. It didn't. Nadir walked forward. It was quiet, and there wasn't much light. He kept an eye on all directions, gripping tightly to his weapon. Squinting, he couldn't make out anyone in the driver's seat. He picked up his pace, kicking up dust and praying he didn't step on a rattlesnake. Again, he glanced over his shoulder, feeling relatively secure. It was unlikely that Vaughan had found a gun by now, but he could have a knife or other sharp object.

Nadir reached the other car without incident. He glanced in the back.

 _Erik._

Nadir winced. His old friend appeared much worse than usual, if that were possible. Gaunt and yellow. Clearly unwell.

Nadir softly knocked on the window. Erik sharply looked up. Then the hollow eyes widened, perhaps softened, and a thin lip twitched upwards. The door was unlocked, so Nadir didn't have to make a show of breaking the window.

"Hello, Old Friend," Nadir greeted, his voice naturally warm.

"Took your damned time, didn't you?" Erik hoarsely replied.

"I stopped for ice cream."

"Peanut butter and marshmallow with a sprinkle of coconut?" Yellow eyes glimmered with amusement. "Disgusting."

"You know me far too well."

"Finally something we can both agree on."

"Let's get you out of here," said Nadir. "Then I'll deal with Nicholas. Any idea when he'll be back?"

"Fairly soon unless the idiot got himself caught. He's been gone for over two hours."

"All right. Do you have the strength to hold onto me?"

Erik sighed. "Perhaps."

Erik managed to turn over onto his stomach. Nadir leaned down and hooked Erik's right arm around his neck, and Erik weakly held on. He pulled Erik out of the car and dragged him half-upright onto the ground. Erik slumped against him but managed to keep slight weight on his feet, sparing Nadir the full burden of carrying him. "This is humiliating," Erik muttered although Nadir detected a hint of relief.

"Would you rather I throw you over my shoulders like a soldier in combat? Would that be more heroic?"

Erik told him to go do something that was physically impossible. With a chuckle, Nadir more or less dragged Erik forward, but Erik held on.

Already out of breath, Erik soon said, "Kahn, I don't really care if I make it out of this. But I am in severe discomfort, so I hope you won't leave me to a painful demise."

"Gabby is here. I'm sure she'll fix you up, find a way to get you some medicine."

"Gabrielle. You brought her." Erik's voice betrayed no emotion.

"I did." They were halfway to the car. Everything was looking better by the moment. Nadir's heart started to calm.

"I won't go to prison. You know that, don't you?"

"I…do. There are a lot of discussions coming up. I don't think now is the time for them. I don't have plans to take you to prison, so long as you…"

"Behave?"

Nadir sadly chuckled. "Yes."

"I have no plans to complicate your life. Beyond not going to prison, I don't care what happens next. Do as you like."

"What I want to do has become less relevant by the day," Nadir muttered. And yet he also felt a hint of - _what was it?_ Happiness. Did he dare feel that? Did he dare hope that this all wouldn't turn into a disaster?

"What?"

"Well, I…" Nadir's eyes narrowed as he looked into the distance. "Sh. We'll talk later. I see Vaughan." They both froze as the figure crept past them toward the other car. Nicholas was about thirty meters away. In the shadows, they were thankfully difficult to see.

"I trust you are armed?"

"Yes." As they reached the rental car, Nadir again glanced up. Vaughan had obviously realized that Erik was no longer in the backseat. Nicholas was looking around furiously, throwing his arms into the air, yelling obscenities. Nadir smiled to himself. Vaughan would never reach them in time to stop them. They were safe.

He quickly helped Erik into the car, making sure he was lying in a comfortable position on his side. Nadir's mind drifted toward the ethical dilemma in front of him. It wouldn't be right to run over there and outright murder an unarmed Nicholas Vaughan. Yet Nicholas could very well tell the police about Erik as a form of revenge. Nadir would have to make sure that Erik was well on his way out of the area before contacting the authorities.

"Is Vaughan driving here now?" Erik suddenly asked.

Nadir sharply looked up. "No. He's still looking around. Why?"

"Thought I heard a car," Erik mumbled. "Perhaps I am losing my mind. Again."

"Let's get going. We'll figure out Vaughan later."

Nadir climbed into the driver's seat, closed the door, and started the engine. He shifted into Drive, turned the car around, and gave the rearview mirror one last glance.

 _What the hell?_

His eyes widened as he struggled to understand the chaotic scene unfolding behind him. Nicholas was not alone now. _Who was…?_ His stomach dropped, and he felt the urge to vomit. "Fuck," Nadir whispered.

"That's a rare word for you, Mr. Eloquent. What is wrong with you now?" asked Erik. "Is Vaughan coming? I am sure that you can handle the idiot. What the hell are you doing?"

Nadir quickly braked and switched off the ignition, deciding on a quieter and more flexible approach. He opened his door and said, "I am going to leave you here. Stay quiet."

"What the hell is wrong with you?! What are you doing?"

"I am not going to tell you because you will…not be happy with me, to say the least. I have to take care of something."

But Erik pushed himself up and glanced backward before Nadir could stop him. And Erik saw what Nadir saw. There was an awful moment of silence. And then, in a horrible voice filled with confusion and rage and terror - _"What have you done? Get her away from there! What the hell have you done?!"_

Nadir had raced forward before Erik finished screaming at him.

A gunshot sounded out into the night.

* * *

When Nadir had asked them to pull over, none of them had slept. They had faked it. They had been too suspicious. They had expected Nadir to betray them.

"What do you think changed?" Christine asked after Nadir first began acting strangely. "What's happened?"

"I don't know," Corey replied. "Maybe someone contacted him. Maybe Erik did."

Christine's hands were clenched into fists, and she was leaning forward. "I have a terrible feeling."

So did Corey. His back muscles were so tense that the pain had begun to creep up his neck and into his head. He ignored it and continued to drive.

Once Gabby was in their car, Corey asked her, "Do you know anything? Why's Nadir acting weird all of a sudden?"

"No idea," said Gabby. "He wouldn't tell me anything. He's being very quiet."

"I can't stand this!" Christine exclaimed. "We asked him to help us. And all he does is lie. He wants to imprison or kill Erik. That's why he's doing this."

"We don't know that," stressed Gabby.

"We don't know anything at all," Corey helplessly replied.

When Nadir suggested that they stop to rest, they had periodically closed their eyes for appearances but not slept. Gabby was the first one to see Nadir sneak away. She loudly alerted them both.

Christine cried out in anger. "Follow him!"

"Not closely," said Corey. "We have to stay far enough behind so that he doesn't know. I don't want to slow him down."

"You're right," said Christine. "We need him to lead us to Erik."

So Corey, with very limited experience in this sort of operation, followed Nadir at a distance. It was hard. Several times, Corey thought that they had lost track of him. Once, Corey was almost certain that he had, leading to tears from Christine. But then Gabby spotted him on a side road. Corey almost phoned Nadir to yell at him and demand that he stop this stupidity. _Didn't he understand what he was putting Christine through?_ But he didn't, for the sake of Erik's life. Corey kept following.

They reached a town, and Nadir made a sudden turn onto the exit that led into it. Surprised, Corey jerked the wheel so hard that they all fell sideways.

"Be careful," said Gabby.

"Now where he's going?" Christine muttered.

"I don't know," Corey replied. Nadir was soon slowed down by some social event that was taking place in the town. Corey hid several cars behind him. Christine nervously wrung her hands together.

It all started to go downhill when a policeman began directing traffic as Corey drove up to a busy intersection. They were stopped for about two minutes. Nadir was well ahead of them.

"I should get out and follow him!" Christine exclaimed. She and Gabby were bending their necks out the windows, trying to track Nadir's car with their eyes.

"You'll be far behind him," Corey argued. "Just wait. They have to let me through sometime."

He was finally allowed to drive forward as the officer signaled for the crowds of people to stop crossing the street.

"He made a right," said Gabby. "I'm sure of it."

Corey followed her directions. "Now what?" he asked.

"I think another right," Gabby murmured.

"Are you sure?" asked Christine.

"No," Gabby admitted. "I thought I saw it, but it could have been a different car."

Corey made another turn. They headed past a bank, past a couple of subdivisions and away from civilization and into desert. They continued for a mile or so before Corey said, "I don't think this is right. I don't know. I should call him. We can tell him to knock it off. This is ridiculous."

"What if he doesn't answer?" Christine squinted. "Wait. I see a car! Out there off the road. Look!"

"Is it Nadir's car?" Gabby asked.

"I can't tell," she replied. "Maybe not. But we should take a look. Who else would be out here?"

"I don't know. Drug dealers?" Still, Corey slowly approached, his headlights off. He stopped about ten feet away from it. The car was clearly not Nadir's. "Christine, this is a bad idea. We should back off until we figure out what's going on."

"How are we going to figure anything out?!" Christine yelled, becoming more frantic by the second. "What if Nadir's already found Erik? What if he's killed him?"

"We don't know that!" Gabby shouted back. "We have no idea what he's done. He could be saving Erik's life. We just need to calm down and – "

" _I am not calming down until we find them! We have to find them!"_

Corey was startled into silence as her panic enveloped the car.

That was when Gabby said, "Wait. I see another car behind us. Look to the right, off the road. I see someone standing over there by it. Is that Nadir?"

Corey twisted around to look.

And Christine…poor Christine…she opened her door and climbed out. Before Corey could stop her, she was gone.

Corey jumped out next. "Christine, wait!" He grabbed the gun from beneath his seat and chased after her, nearly tripping over the sand. "Christine, stop!"

"What the fuck?!" screamed a voice in the darkness. An unfamiliar angry man's voice.

Christine cried out and stopped running. Corey quickly understood why. A figure was blocking her path.

"Who the hell are you?" asked the man.

Christine seemed to know who he was. "Where's Erik?" she shakily asked.

"I'm wondering that myself."

Corey realized that the younger man was Nicholas Vaughan. He froze as horror settled in. The gun felt heavy in his hand. He subtly switched off the safety.

"Wait," said Nicholas, taking a slow step forward. "I know who _you_ are. You're that girl. That girl Erik kidnapped. What are you doing here? What the hell is going on?"

Likely knowing that she was in danger, Christine started to run past him. Nicholas lunged at her. Corey raised his gun, aimed at Nicholas's torso, and fired.

Christine screamed.

Corey missed.

Nicholas grabbed Christine. She tried to fight, tried to smack him in the face with her palm, but Nicholas was too strong. He held her tightly against him, her back pressed against his chest. Christine screamed again. Something glimmered in the moonlight against her neck. A knife.

Nicholas laughed at Corey's bad aim as he used Christine as a shield. Terrified of shooting her, Corey let his arm drop back to his side. "Let her go," he futilely pled. "She doesn't have anything you want. I'll put the gun down. Let her go."

Then Nadir appeared, also holding a handgun. Upon seeing him, Nicholas quickly backed up against Hope's car, clutching Christine tightly.

"Let her go," commanded Nadir in a much deadlier voice than Corey was capable of.

Nicholas chuckled. "And what do you plan to do if I don't? You've got nothing."

"It's not what I will do," Nadir replied. "It's what Erik will do to you."

At the mention of Erik, Nicholas's features twisted into the ugliest of masks. "That asshole betrayed me, didn't he? He called you all here to fuck me over! He screwed me! And it's all because of her isn't it?" He squeezed Christine's chest to the point of pain, causing her to cry out. "He'd be on my side if it weren't for her!"

"Your side?" asked Nadir with disbelief. "You're so very wrong. Erik isn't on anyone's side. He's on his own side."

"He's on her side!" Nicholas snapped back. "If I kill her, he'll - "

"He'll what?" Nadir asked. "I'll tell you what. He'll do things to you that I don't even want to mention in front of these nice people. And I won't stop him. I'll make sure you both live through this night, that Erik gains all his strength back, and I won't stop him. He'll find you, Nicholas. Unless you let her go. Let her go, Nicholas."

Nicholas pressed the knife against her neck. A choked sob escaped from Christine's lips, but Corey could tell that she was trying to be brave. "I get it," Nicholas replied in a soft voice. "Erik will torture me to death if I hurt her. How creative." Nicholas reached behind him and opened the car door. "I guess I'd better not live through the night." A pause. "But she's coming with me. You'll never see either of us alive again. Give Erik my best. Tell him that no one fucks with me and gets away with it."

Nicholas yanked her backwards into the car with him. He slammed the door shut and kept her in his lap, still using her as a shield. He shoved the key into the ignition and started the car. Christine stared at them all with a look of terror, silently begging them to help her.

"Shoot him!" Corey cried.

"I don't want to hit her," Nadir sharply replied as he attempted to aim the gun at Nicholas's left temple.

Nicholas sped forward. Nadir fired. The bullet struck the window with a deafening smash, but it didn't hit either person inside. Again, Nadir tried to aim, but he gave up with a growl of fury. The car drove away. A scream of rage permeated the evening air, a scream that only could have come from Erik.

Nadir cursed. He yelled at Corey, "Give me your keys!"

Corey obeyed without hesitation. Nadir ran toward the nearest car. Gabby had already climbed out and was watching from a distance, hands clasped over her heart.

Before jumping into the vehicle, Nadir threw a key at Corey and said, "Erik is over there in my car. Go somewhere safe with him. Try to help him. He's going to be furious, so beware - but he needs aid."

Corey nodded. With devastation, he said, "I'm sorry about this."

"So am I," Nadir replied with no malice. "So very sorry." He soon drove off, pursuing Nicholas and Christine.

Gabby was now crying, one had covering her mouth.

Stunned, Corey gently put an arm around her and guided her to where Erik lay.

* * *

Nicholas shoved her into the passenger's seat. He put both hands on the wheel and leaned forward, face twisted with fury.

Folding her arms up against her chest, Christine pled, "Please let me go."

"Shut up!" Nicholas snapped at her. "Say another word and I'll slice into that pretty face of yours. Got it?"

Tears dripped down her cheeks as she stared at the blackness passing by them. This was not the first time she had been kidnapped. But – she knew that Nicholas had no qualms about killing her. He was using her to hurt Erik. How did she get out of this one? How did she stop him?

"Look at you," Nicholas muttered. "There's nothing that special about you. You're just another blonde bimbo. God, I hate you. You screwed up everything." His fist slammed into her shoulder. She kept from crying out. "Look at you. You're pathetic. Go ahead and answer. What the fuck is so special about you?"

"Nothing," she whispered. "Nothing is. I just…"

"You what?" Nicholas growled.

"I just wanted to save his life. That's all."

Nicholas paused and then laughed. "So you actually like the ugly freak. You really do. That's rich. I gave Erik a hard time, saying he was stupid to trust you. But you want him. That's hilarious." Nicholas shook his head. "Were you going to help him?"

"Help him what?"

"I don't know. Blow something up."

"No! What? We were just going to…"

"Going to what? Finish your fucking sentences!"

"I don't know!" she cried out in a tear-choked voice, infuriated by the way he spoke to her. "I don't know. Try to be happy. Live in a house and takes walks and maybe get a cat…and have some peace. That's it. That's all I wanted."

"That sounds boring. You wanted him to be boring. You wanted him to be like everybody else. That's why you ruined him. I hate you!"

"I didn't ask him to be anything! He wanted that. Erik wanted a different life. You don't know anything about us!"

"I know your type! Privileged little normal girl. Everything handed to her. Gets everything she wants."

Christine let out a sickened laugh of disbelief. "I grew up in near poverty. _You_ had everything. My mom barely noticed me. Your mother fought for you. She did everything for you, broke laws for you, until you killed her."

"No, you dumb bitch," Nicholas snarled. "I'm not talking about money or whether Mommy hugged you enough or whether Daddy touched you. Fuck that shit. I'm talking about your head." Nicholas suddenly glanced at the rearview mirror. "That asshole is still following me." Then they both looked ahead into the distance and saw the flashing blue lights. Black and white cars. Nadir had called the police. "Shit."

Before Christine even had a chance to feel some semblance of hope, Nicholas made a U-turn over the grassy highway median. Christine braced herself, terrified that he was going to run into oncoming traffic. The tires squealed, and the car tilted. Nicholas accelerated. Christine looked behind them and saw that Nadir had smoothly copied him. Everyone was in pursuit of them now.

"Well, this is going to end soon," Nicholas continued. "Erik completely screwed me over. I thought he didn't fit, too…Finally, I thought he didn't fit! Everyone always tried to fix me, but I thought he got me. I thought he understood! But he was like everyone else. Everyone. He fucked me! I hate him. I hate you! I hate you!"

Was it better to stay silent and hope that Nadir saved her? What was Nicholas's plan? Whatever it was, she knew that he wasn't planning on coming out of this alive. Maybe she could at least keep him distracted with conversation. "Erik…it's not about fitting in. He wanted a connection."

"He could have had a connection with me!" Nicholas screamed. He was going faster and faster, pushing one hundred. Her heart pounded in her ears. She gripped onto the door handle, ready to vomit. "We could have sent out a message!"

"What message do you want to send?!" In her terror, every word was nearly a scream.

"That everything and everyone here is stupid and unimportant and they're all powerless losers."

Nicholas suddenly braked. She was flung forward, then backward. Her head spun. With a twist of the wheel, he took the exit back into the same town.

 _What was he doing?_

"They won't get that message," she replied once she'd caught her breath. Her body was in flight or fight mode, but she couldn't do either. "The only message everyone will get is that you're the world's sickest person. They'll talk about what's wrong with you, what made you the way you are. That's it. That's what they did last time. And put metal detectors in my school. All you'll do is make them hate you."

To her dismay, Nicholas shrugged and replied, "I don't really care anymore. They can think what they want. I'm still sending a message." Nicholas turned and smiled at her. "And if he won't do it with me, Christine, then - _you_ will."

"Where are you going?" she whispered as he headed down the main street. Sirens blared behind them.

"To make my last stand."

The earlier town celebration had likely just ended. People were beginning to leave, flooding the streets and sidewalks. There were crowds everywhere.

"What are you going to do?" she asked. "The kn-knife?"

He laughed. "You're so stupid. Don't you see? You're riding in the weapon."

 _"What?"_

"You're the weapon, too. With me. We're the weapon! If he won't be with me, you will." He giggled louder. "You will, Christine! You'll be a weapon, too! Hold on tight, Christine!"

Finally, she understood. Nicholas was going to hit as many people as he could. He was going to make her watch him murder a bunch of people with the car. And then probably kill them both in the end.

There was no more time to plead or reason with him. She wasn't going to talk her way out of this one. His foot came down hard on the accelerator.

They sped forward toward the crowds, toward families and children. She didn't even have time to mourn what might be the final seconds of her life.

With one last deep breath, Christine leaned over and grabbed the wheel. She twisted it hard and held on for as long as she could.

Nicholas shouted in protest. A fist slammed into her cheek.

She shrieked as the car spun around, as the lights and colors blended together, as her head hit the window, as the tires squealed, as she tasted metallic blood on her tongue -

 _Crash._


	49. Chapter 49

I'm not sure how many chapters are after this, but I'd say in the range of 3-5 with the Epilogue. After such a long, bumpy ride, we need a few indulgence-chapters, right? Thank you again for all your awesome support.

 **Read and Review!**

Crashes and clangs echoed in her ears. Distant voices. Colorful and bright lights. Pain – in the middle of her head.

Christine's eyes closed as she nearly blacked out. The car stilled. _Silence._ She slowly opened her lids. She stared up at the greyish car ceiling. After a moment, she remembered where she was. The airbags were all out, droopy and white, and the car seemed distorted, smooshed in. Her right hand found the lock and then the door handle. She pushed the former upward and heard a click. Tugging the handle, she forced open the door. Her head pounded. She touched her lips and saw red on her hand.

" _Ugh._ " A grunt next to her.

Christine looked toward the passenger's side. A face suddenly loomed over her. A bleeding, scowling face.

A roar of rage.

" _Aaaaagh!_ You fucking bitch!" Clammy hands reached out and wrapped around her neck. Christine fell backward, her head outside the vehicle and her torso still on the seat. Nicholas leaned over her, eyes wide and crazed, mouth smeared with blood. "Fuck you!" She coughed as the hands began to squeeze. "I hate you! I hate you! Fuck you!"

Her arms lifted up to try and push him away, but she was weak and disoriented. It was impossible to breathe or speak.

"I hate you! Fuck you!"

She choked and struggled as the world blackened. She gagged against the pressure on her throat.

"I hate you! Fuck you! I hate you! I ha - "

An explosion. Then another. Her lips parted into a silent scream. The hands loosened. The face in front of her was no longer a face. It was a mess of crimson and flesh. The face had exploded. An eyeball hung loose in its socket. A mouth with missing teeth gaped at her.

Christine whimpered in horror and stared, grasping to the car door for support as she tried to sit up.

A warm hand on her cheek guided her gaze away from the grotesque sight. A kind voice spoke words that she couldn't understand. Christine looked up through blurred eyes. _Nadir._

Her brain began to make sense of what he was saying. "Are you okay?" he breathlessly asked. "Are you hurt?"

"I d-don't know," she murmured. "My head a little. My mouth."

"We'll get you checked out." He examined her head, arms, and legs. "You don't look too bad. I don't think you broke any bones."

She looked back at Nicholas, who was slumped over, his mangled face buried and bleeding into the seat. He was dead.

"I had to," said Nadir. "He would have killed you before there was time to negotiate with him. I had a clear shot, and I took it. Thank God you'd gotten the door open."

She nodded, unable to think about that right now. She was alive. And - "Erik?" she whispered.

"He's okay. He's with Gabby and Corey, and he'll be okay." Nadir knelt beside her. Sirens screamed all around them. "I'm so sorry, Christine. For betraying your trust. I'll never forgive myself for almost getting you killed."

"It's okay," she murmured.

"There's not a lot of time to talk. You'll be taken away in an ambulance. The authorities might question you later. I want you to keep it simple. Say you were down here to sing for a concert and Nicholas grabbed you at a restaurant. Say something like that. That's all you know. I'll try to take care of the rest. I suspect there will be a lot of people who want to sweep this under the rug."

She nodded, too depleted to be worried about all that right now. Her head still hurt. Visions of Nicholas, both dead and alive, flickered in her brain.

As the EMTs helped her onto a stretcher and carried her toward an ambulance, she looked back at the car. The twisted heap that had been the car, anyway. It had crashed into the side of a brick building, putting a hole in the wall. The front of the vehicle was completely crushed in.

But it didn't look like anyone else had been hurt. That was good. She desperately wanted to sleep now that it was all over.

But she knew that she wouldn't truly be able to rest until she saw him alive.

* * *

Gabby had gasped when she first glimpsed Erik sitting up in the back, his gaze fixed in the direction that Nicholas had driven. Whether she had gasped at Erik's face or his physical condition – Corey didn't know.

Corey had been too much in a state of shock to do anything except climb in the driver's seat and start the engine. Gabby bravely climbed in the back next to Erik.

Erik sharply barked, _"Follow them!"_

Corey cringed at that furious yet beautiful voice. He had never heard anything like it. "I can't," he shakily replied. "We can't do anything to help. Nadir will handle it."

" _Follow them, you idiot!"_

"Erik," said Gabby in a gentle voice. "We have to get out of here. For your safety. Nadir will help Christine. He'll get the police involved, which is why we need to leave."

"Fuck my safety! I do not give a damn about that! Follow them! I must get to her. I must…"

But Corey wouldn't do it. He knew that they would only be in the way. He was going to obey Nadir.

"Don't touch me!" Erik snapped at Gabby, who had probably been trying to offer aid.

Corey robotically drove forward. He found the first exit and left the town, speeding onto the highway.

"Faster!" Erik snarled.

"I cannot go after them!" Corey shouted. "I can't do anything."

"Of course _you_ can't! I will!"

"What are you going to do?" Gabby asked Erik. "You can barely lift your head and arms. We can't do anything! Let Nadir handle it."

"He cannot handle anything. _Go faster! What the hell is wrong with you?!_ "

Before Corey could think through the situation, he saw a car racing in the opposite direction down the highway. Then another car. Then several police vehicles with sirens and flashing lights. Nicholas had turned around.

"What should we do?" asked Gabby, watching the mess along with him.

"I'm going to pull over at this rest stop," said Corey, nearly too nervous to drive now. "And wait."

He expected more insults and screaming. But Erik suddenly quieted. Corey glanced at the rearview mirror. A haunted gleam had entered those hollowed yellow eyes, a defeated gaze that was almost worse than the yelling. Erik fell back against the seat and stared upward.

"Erik," Gabby pled. She held a bag of supplies that she had remembered to bring from the other car. "Please let me make you more comfortable. Let me give you some water."

"Leave me alone!" Erik hissed. He was silent after that. Maybe he had finally accepted their helplessness, especially now that there were cops everywhere.

About ten minutes ticked by as Corey sat in the parking lot of the dark rest stop. Surely Nicholas would run out of gas at some point. Car chases always had endings. Corey's stomach turned as he wondered whether this one would end happily.

His phone finally rang. With a shaking hand, Corey answered, "Hello?"

"She's okay," said Nadir. Corey let out a breath that was almost a sob of relief. "The car crashed, and she got a bump on the head. The hospital will probably take her for a night or two, just to make sure there was no other damage. But I think she'll be okay."

"And Nicholas?"

"Dead."

Corey decided not to ask more questions about that. "What should I do now?"

"Find a motel a distance away from here, at least three hours. Try to pay in cash. Let's keep you all away from all this. I have an alibi for myself, but justifying everyone's presence wouldn't be fun. And Erik…"

"How about Christine?"

"I'll figure that out."

"Okay." Corey would have to trust Nadir. He had no idea what else to do.

"Get somewhere. I'll call you soon."

"Okay, thanks."

Corey hung up. He turned to the back and managed a smile. "Hey. She's okay! Nicholas is dead, and she'll be okay. In the hospital for a night or two."

Gabby released a cry of happiness. "Thank God. Oh, it's all over. Thank God! Did you hear that, Erik? She's fine."

But Erik was still staring upward, into space. He gave no reaction to the news.

"Now will you let me take care of you?" Gabby asked him.

Erik didn't reply or acknowledge her question. He was quiet for the rest of the drive. He was quiet as they managed to carry him into a cheap motel room and place him atop the bed. After making sure that she didn't need help, Corey left as Gabby began to give Erik a more thorough examination.

Erik just seemed _done._ Corey couldn't even begin to understand what that strange man might be thinking.

Hopefully, Christine would know what to say.

* * *

No one ever came to question her.

The doctors checked her for internal damage. She had a bruise from when Nicholas had punched her. The impact had caused her to bite into her cheek, and she could feel some soreness in her mouth. Her head was also bruised from hitting the window, but no major or permanent damage was apparent from the scans. "You're a lucky girl," said one of the nurses with a smile.

Christine didn't feel very lucky yet.

Soon, there was quiet. Someone would check in on her every so often, make a note, and leave. Christine eventually turned on the television and found a local news channel. The anchorman was reporting the story as a police chase without giving any details.

Despite the need to sleep, Christine was dying to get out of there. No one came to see her that night, and she grew worried. Her purse and phone were still in the car that Corey had been driving. _Oh, maybe that meant Nadir had them. Where was he?_

 _And Erik. What was happening with him? Was he really okay?_

Around midnight, her body finally gave in to a few dreamless hours of slumber.

Nadir came the next morning at 9 AM. He looked tired, too. Before she could say anything, he pressed his index finger to his lips. "I'll tell you everything when we're alone," he promised.

She understood. "Am I leaving soon?"

"Yes. They said to keep an eye on you, but you'll be discharged today. I assured them that a nurse would be watching over you. I hope you don't mind, but I found your insurance card in your purse. You'll have to fill out a few things, but I took care of the rest."

"Thanks." She gave him a grateful smile. "Am I going to be questioned?"

"I…don't think so. I'll talk to you soon."

She could barely sit still as she was wheeled out of the building several hours later. It looked like they were on the outskirts of a town, and the rural area was unfamiliar in the daytime. After all she had been through, everything had a surreal gleam to it. Nadir was driving a different car, a dark blue one. He helped her into the passenger's seat, climbed into the driver's side, and started the engine. He glanced behind him and looked around, eyes narrowed, before beginning their drive. Four hours, Nadir had said. That seemed like forever.

"Now we can talk?" she asked.

"Yes."

"Is everything okay?"

"Somewhat," Nadir began. "The local and state police have no idea what's going on. There was chaos last night. They were baffled as to why Nicholas Vaughan was out of prison and in their town. Since I shot him, they immediately took me into the nearest station for questioning. I said that all I knew about was Isabel – and her drive to save her demented son. I said that I was privately investigating her, that I had tracked her here."

"Did they believe you?"

"They had no idea what to believe. They stared at me as though I were from outer space and kept asking the same questions. I think I was consistent with my answers." Nadir shook his head. "So of course someone from the federal government finally arrived to do clean up. Or at least someone with a lot more authority."

"Oh, no," she whispered. "Erik…"

"He wasn't interested in Erik, didn't mention him. Maybe he thinks Erik is dead; I don't know. What he did care about was – they don't want me going to the media. That's the biggest concern, that all this gets out to the world. I kept my story the same, said I only knew about Isabel. I didn't want him to know that I was aware of other unethical activities."

"Did he believe you?"

"I don't know. He was somewhat apologetic, saying some poor decisions were made by certain people. And then he threatened me a little. He said, 'Your involvement in all this is very strange, Mr. Khan. I don't think you want me investigating you much further, do you? I don't know what I'll find, but I'm sure it's more interesting than you're making it out to be."

Christine shuddered. "What'd you say?"

"I told him to be careful. Because he wasn't the only one with friends in dark places." Nadir sighed. "And then I agreed not to go to the media, to keep all this quiet." Nadir's brow furrowed, and he tapped his fingers on the steering wheel. "Normally, my sense of ethics might prevent me from making that kind of deal. But I have some obligations, don't I? You deserve peace. And I told him to leave you alone, too, or there would be no deal."

"Did he agree?"

"He said that he had no idea what you were doing here, no idea how you were involved. He said he didn't want to know. But you have to agree to stay quiet, too."

"Well, of course I will. I wouldn't even know what to say. At least it's stopped, right? I mean, whatever Hope was doing, that's stopped, right?"

"For now," Nadir muttered. "I imagine that there will always be people trying to use new technology for terrible purposes. Neither of us can completely stop that." Nadir glanced at the rearview mirror again. "In any case, we still need to be careful. We need to get out of here, go somewhere safe, and let this all die down."

"You, me, and Erik?"

"Yes," Nadir slowly replied. "If that's what you want, given some conditions. But there's something you need to know."

"What?"

"I don't think that Erik remembers your time together in SCI."

"Really?" That made her heart hurt.

"He didn't seem to. I don't think he knows what you're doing here." A pause. "Christine, you may need to accept that the Erik you interacted with in SCI and the Erik here are simply not the same person."

She clutched her purse against her stomach and stared forward. "I will if I have to."

"And that doesn't change anything?"

She shook her head. "There's nothing to change. I'm going to see him. And we're going to talk."

"All right," said Nadir.

The rest of the drive was much quieter. Nadir kept an eye on their surroundings, probably even more paranoid because Corey had followed him last time. She watched, too, but didn't see anyone. The roads were pretty empty. It was mid-afternoon by the time they reached their destination. The motel was nearly out in the middle of nowhere, next to a couple of chain hotels and a gas station.

Her heart beat quickly as they pulled into the parking lot. Her stomach tightened with anticipation. So close….What would she say first?

Nadir parked near the building. Corey came out to meet them.

"How is he?" Christine asked as she shakily stood, giving him a quick hug.

"Gabby fixed him up," Corey replied. "I think he's physically improved. But he won't say anything. He won't look at anyone."

Nadir turned to her. "Would you like me to talk to him first, explain how much you've done for him?"

"No," she immediately replied. "I want to see him right now. I've come so far."

"All right," said Nadir. "Go on." His eyes and tone held concern, but he was no longer fighting her.

She followed Corey to the room. "Is Gabby in here?" she asked.

"No. She's napping in another room. I think we all need long naps." Corey yawned to prove his point.

"Agreed," Christine murmured. She took a deep breath. She was here, standing in from of Room 228. She had made it.

All that was left was…

Well - everything.

Corey unlocked the door with a keycard. He slowly opened it. She stepped in and squinted. It was so dark in there. Only one dusty lamp by the bedside was turned on.

For the first time in many months, she looked at the _real_ him. He was lying down. He had on a mask that revealed only his mouth, a cheaper black plastic one. _Had he requested it?_ Much of his body, up to beneath his arm, was covered by the comforter. He was wearing a dark blue robe. She glanced at his pale hands that were clenched into fists at his sides. His thin lips were drawn into a tight line. And that was all she could see. He looked so much smaller than before. It brought tears to her eyes.

"Good luck," Corey murmured. He left and closed the door.

Entranced, she walked further into the room.

His eyes fixated themselves upon her face. His chest moved slowly up and down.

It took her a second to speak. "Hi, Erik." Her voice broke. Barely able to think, her words could only come from the heart. "I'm so happy to see you." A silence followed. "Erik - "

" _What_ are _you_ doing here?" he hoarsely rasped. She could see the confusion and agony in his eyes, hear it in his voice.

"Well, Corey and I…after Daniel…we…" She recalled what Nadir had said. "Are you asking why I'm here at all? You don't remember SCI?"

He didn't understand. "Did Nadir bring you into this like the utter idiot he is?" Erik angrily questioned. "He nearly got you killed! I will - "

"No! I was here before Nadir was. I came with Corey and Gabby. We called Nadir after it became too much for us to handle. But, Erik, none of this will make sense until you understand SCI-"

"I do not care about SCI! What are you doing here? I let you go! And I…What are you doing here?!"

She shook her head and started to cry. "I'll tell you everything. Everything! I promise. But first - I want to hug you. Can I just hug you?" He didn't answer. He stared, frozen and speechless. That was as good as a 'yes' to her.

He didn't protest as she approached and climbed onto the bed. The mattress sank beneath her weight as she scooted toward him on her hands and knees. He remained motionless. As he was reclining, it was difficult to immediately embrace him as she wanted to. Still, she placed her hands on his shoulders. She buried her face into the robe and his neck, lying on her stomach. She sobbed into the soft material. "I thought I'd never see you alive again," she cried. She managed to work her arms between the space between his head and the giant white pillow. Now it was a more of a proper hug. She was half-draped across him. "I'm so happy that I get to…"

Sniffling, soaking them both with her tears, she stayed like that for a long while. Erik didn't push her away, nor did he say anything. Once she had stopped crying, she listened. She could hear him breathing. Occasionally, he swallowed. She glanced down and saw that his right hand had settled on the bed, inches away from her waist, as though he were afraid to touch her.

She pressed a kiss to his neck, near his wonderful pulse, as it was one of the few places with exposed flesh. Then she dared to raise her head and look at his eyes again. They were still very confused, but they had softened slightly. "How are you feeling?" she asked.

"I…" His gaze flickered to her head. "You are hurt."

"I'm okay. A little sore, but I'll be fine."

"When I am involved, you are always hurt," he muttered.

"Erik, no. This wasn't your fault. Nadir and I had some misunderstandings. We both made bad decisions. But it's okay now." She reached for his hand and entwined their fingers. He glanced down at this interaction and then back at her.

"I let you go," he said in a barely audible whisper. "Why are you here, Angel? I never planned to see you again. For your sake. I let you go."

"You…did," she softly agreed. "And that was right at the time, although I wish you hadn't disappeared off the face of the Earth afterwards. It would have made all this a lot easier."

"What would be easier?"

"Finding you. Bringing you home."

"I do not have a home." Before she could respond, he again glanced down at her hand. "Are you married? How much time has passed?"

"Married? You have forgotten everything. You really think I'd be cruel enough to -"

" _Are you?"_

"No! To who? Raoul? We broke up a long time ago. I'll have to tell you about the band again."

"The band?" She had never heard Erik sound so bewildered.

"Yes. And the cookie and Charlotte. And -"

"Why are you here?"

"I care about you. I missed you! And..." Maybe she should have waited, but she was tired of having regrets. "Erik, I love you."

 _"Stop!"_ His head pressed back into the pillow. His voice grew rougher, and his muscles tightened. "What is wrong with you?!"

His reaction stung. "But I do. I missed you so much. I missed you and the music."

His gaze turned toward the ceiling. "You should not be here."

"I want to be here now." She leaned down and kissed him. She gently pressed her lips to his. He didn't push her away, nor did he return the affection. Mentally drained and physically weakened, poor Erik obviously didn't know what to do. A soft noise came from the back of his throat, a little pained moan, that seemed uncharacteristic of him.

She pulled back as something dawned on her. What if Nadir were right? What if this Erik were a completely separate person from the Erik of SCI? It meant that all of their earlier conversations and understandings would be meaningless. All that progress – _gone._ She might know nothing about what this Erik wanted.

It was a very depressing thought. She needed to think about him now, despite her own desires. "Are you okay? I'm not hurting you, right? I just missed you. But you can tell me…if anything…Well." She used both hands to wipe her cheeks dry. She had not known it was possible to be so simultaneously happy and sad.

She waited for a response but none came. Erik's gaze stayed on the ceiling.

She moved away and lay on her back, on the other pillow, careful of his space. She needed to tell him everything, but she didn't start talking right away. Partly because of exhaustion. The lack of sleep from the last several days was quickly catching up with her. Nothing was even close to perfect, but at least he was alive. He wasn't dying. She had time now. That gave her peace enough to relax a little.

But also partly because rambling off a long story didn't seem like it would fix this. There were so many careful discussions that they would have to have all over again. Maybe after she had slept, she would be able to tell him in the right way.

 _Maybe…_

"Christine?" That was the first time he said her name that day. The sound of it made her heart flutter.

"Yes?"

"When I…I kidnapped you…" He trailed off.

And she finally understood that, maybe more than anything else, Erik was ashamed.

She raised her head. "Ask whatever you need to. I won't get upset. I promise."

"It is a very stupid question," he said with a soft, self-deprecating laugh.

"I bet it's not," she said, also laughing. "I don't think you're the type to ask stupid questions. Actually, I had a teacher who said that there was no such thing as a stupid question."

"That teacher was a moron." He sighed. "When I kidnapped you, did we dine at a restaurant? Together. Did we go to a restaurant?"

"No. Not then…"

"I have this odd memory of it, but that cannot be right." He finally glanced at her. "Why are you smiling? Do you find my madness entertaining?" Another broken wisp of a laugh escaped his throat. "I guess it is rather amusing. In any case, it is lovely to see you smile at me like that. Even if it is because I am losing my mind."

"I'm not smiling about that. And you're not losing your mind. That did happen. We went to a restaurant. Just not in this world. In SCI. You remember."

"Oh, God." A pause. "This is all going to be…My head is going to be a mess to sort out. A goddamned mess."

Yet, despite his words, she heard relief in his voice. He stopped staring at her as though she had come to torture him. His hand found hers again, and she quickly and tightly took it. She gave him time to think. If he could remember bits and pieces, she would fill in the details. Letting his two selves gently come together would be better than forcing it.

He eventually said, with both warmth and dismay, "I… _kissed_ you there. I must not lose any of these memories of you."

She knew what he was thinking, and she would not allow it. "We did kiss there. Because, at the time, it was the closest to you that I could get. But you have to remember that all I ever wanted was to get you back here. That may not be what you want." She took a shuddery breath at that admission. "But it was what I wanted. You have to believe that."

He whispered, "You do not want to go back?"

"No," she said. "Erik, you're going to have to answer that same question for yourself. But, before you do, I hope you'll give me a little time."


	50. Chapter 50

A nice calmer chapter with lots of conversations. Hope you enjoy these last several chapters.

 **Read and Review!**

"Erik, you're going to have to answer that same question for yourself. But, before you do, I hope you'll give me a little time."

Erik didn't respond. He glanced away again, staring forward and into space. Despite her desire to reach out to him, she merely held his hand, allowing him to sort through his thoughts.

He finally said, with slight strain, "You were…happy there."

"I don't know if that's the right word for it. I was happy to find some piece of you still alive. But I wasn't exactly happy to be there."

"You did not stare at me with fear, with contempt."

"How am I looking at you now?" she gently asked.

His head turned. "With...kindness, I suppose. Perhaps you are not afraid of me because I can barely move."

"Erik, that's not it."

"You were concerned about my well-being. And so you…you wanted to rescue me. That was extremely kind of you."

"It wasn't an act of charity. Didn't you hear me earlier? I decided that I would never be okay unless I knew that you were truly happy. Then I could try to find my own happiness. Not with Raoul. Not with the band. But somehow. But then you weren't happy in SCI. And I wasn't very happy. So I thought…I thought, well…" She wiped a tear away. "Maybe there could be a way."

"A way for what?"

"To try again in the right way. Wouldn't you like to spend hours absorbed in music together, where time flies by because you're doing what you love? Where nothing else matters because you're doing what you want with someone who understands and…?" He was staring at the other side of the room, lips tightly pressed together. "Erik, why don't you want to look at me?"

"I let you go so that you could be happy."

"And I came back to see if we could be happy. Erik, look at me. Do you not feel that way about me now?"

"How could you ever ask that?" he inquired through gritted teeth.

"Then why won't you look at me?"

"I was horrible to you," he rasped. "I was an utter monster. I was prepared to die afterwards, to rid the world of myself. It seemed like the only solution."

"But I didn't want you to die. I begged Nadir."

"Yes. He said that when he came down to the theater. I did not understand why."

"I couldn't stand the thought of you dead, Erik. I really wanted you to be happy. I thought maybe you could be in SCI. That was why I let them take you. And I'm sorry about that. I'm so sorry you've gone through all this - "

" _You_ are _sorry_? You should have wished the worst for me. Why would you be? I am the one who…"

She squeezed his hand. "Maybe you'll feel better if you say it, too."

It took a bit of effort for him to meet her eyes again. He looked defeated and terrified. Erik had, after all, operated in a world where regret was weakness. Kill or be killed, she supposed.

Had she felt regret upon seeing Nicholas die?

Not really, she admitted to herself. Regret that the situation had spiraled out of control and come to that, definitely. But mostly she had felt relief – that she would get to survive. Nicholas had died so that she could live.

And that was the sort of world Erik had lived in every single day.

Finally, he looked at her. His eyes were shining. In a strangled voice, he managed to say, "Christine, I am…so very sorry for all of it. I am sorry for terrorizing you. When I remember how scared you were - it is a crushing weight on my chest that I deserve to have. So I do not know why you are here."

Her thumb stroked the back of his hand. "I forgive you, Erik. I did a while back."

He choked and cleared his throat. Then he took a long, deep breath, and his shoulders relaxed slightly. She was certain that he did feel better. She felt better.

"So now," she continued. "Now here we are. With lots of time."

"And I have already ruined everything," he dully replied.

"No, you haven't. What have you ruined? I told you that Nicholas wasn't your fault."

"You came in here with nothing but kindness, and I was cruel."

"I wouldn't say you were cruel. You just…" She glanced down. "Well, you didn't seem very happy to see me."

"I remembered all I had done to you."

"I understand. If you couldn't remember SCI, it must have been really confusing."

"But now you are keeping your distance, and I…I do not know anything."

"I didn't want to invade your space until you felt comfortable. I'm not scared of you. Do you want me to come closer again?" He gave a little nod. She could tell that every interaction was a struggle for him, that he had no idea what to do. She came to lie beside him, a hand resting on his chest and her face up against his shoulder. His head turned so that his chin was resting against her hair. "This feels good," she murmured. She felt him shudder. A couple of minutes passed, and her eyelids grew heavier. "You'll have to excuse me if I fall asleep. I haven't slept well in a long time."

"Because of me?"

"Yes. But not in the way you think. I was worried about you."

"Ah."

She wanted to stop talking and simply exist with him. The more tired she became, the more likely she was to say the wrong thing. And this situation was so delicate. Sleep came easily. It was dreamless and warm, and her body finally relaxed. Erik was still and silent.

Hours later, a knock on the door awoke her.

She felt Erik freeze. Christine lifted her head.

"It's just me," said a friendly voice on the other side. "Can I come in?"

Christine was relieved to hear Gabby. She looked at Erik but couldn't read his expression. "Are you okay if I let her in?"

A nod was his only reply.

Christine got up, steadied herself, and opened the door.

Gabby smiled. "Hello, Christine. I'm so glad you're okay."

"Thanks!"

"I came to check on Erik. How are you feeling?"

"Tired but fine," she replied.

"Your head doesn't hurt?"

"Not really. Only when I touch it."

"Well, then don't touch it," said Gabby with a laugh.

"Do you need a moment alone with Erik?" Christine asked, opening the door wider. "It's getting dark. I'd better go find some dinner."

"That sounds good," said Gabby. "I won't be very long."

Christine walked back to Erik. "I'll be back soon, okay? Do you need anything?"

Erik blinked. "I am fine."

She nodded, unsure as to what he was thinking. That had been the one aspect of SCI Erik that she had preferred – his openness. He told her things. He let her understand.

But she had not come so far and fought so hard to give up easily.

One day at a time.

* * *

As Gabrielle checked on _him_ , he was quiet.

He was weak and pathetic and powerless.

And, as he stared at the door, he wondered if his mind had broken completely. He questioned his entire reality.

Gabrielle followed his gaze. "She'll be back soon, Erik."

A pause. "You acknowledged her presence," he softly stated.

"What?"

"I thought perhaps she was a hallucination, but you acknowledged her existence."

"She's very real, Erik." Gabrielle leaned down and studied his eyes. He grew agitated and glanced away. "I was concerned about your mind; Nicholas disconnected you too quickly. But I think that, because you began to disentangle your thoughts while you were in SCI, you may have saved yourself. Christine was helping you remember your real self while you were in there. I think that made the disconnection less traumatic for you." He didn't say anything. "If you think you're having hallucinations, please let me know. But Christine is not a hallucination."

Soon, he would not be able to deny what was happening. Yet he still could not accept it. If he did, he would lose control.

He changed the subject. "Previously, it took weeks to gain my strength back. Will this time be the same?"

"More or less," said Gabrielle. "I don't know if the quality of muscle stimulation was quite as good. But close enough. You'll be back to yourself within a couple months at least. And then God help us all, right?" She smiled slightly, a little darkly.

He let her work. She chattered about something, perhaps to do with her daughter, but he was barely aware.

Before she left, he asked, "Gabrielle?"

She turned. "You're one of the few people who calls me that. It's very formal. Anyway, yes?"

"Is it possible to return?"

"Into SCI?" He nodded once. She sighed. "Theoretically, yes. Of course it is. But with Daniel and Hope both gone, it would be difficult. I would always be scared that someone might find out about you. You would be vulnerable for the rest of your life. Corey and I could try to protect you. Until the day we're fired or arrested or God knows what."

He understood. Yet, as he recalled his interactions with Christine in the System, he could not help but mourn for that existence. He could see the artificial sunlight on her face. He had kissed her, and it was not disgusting. He felt loss.

Gabrielle continued, "Whatever happens, you aren't alone here if you don't want to be. Maybe I was too quick to embrace SCI as a miracle solution. Maybe we all were."

"Or perhaps it was the correct solution to the problem of myself," he muttered.

"Oh, Erik. Talk to Christine some more. Talk to Nadir. And if SCI is the only solution, I will try to help." She sounded tired.

Gabrielle soon departed. He felt so strange and hollow. Hours ago, he had again been prepared to embrace death. Seeing Christine here again, he was on the verge of coming apart. He was still starved for her. All those terrible old feelings of utter desperate need returned. He wanted to touch her. He wanted to be pressed up against her, be engulfed in her scent, away from himself.

And the only hope was that pretty binary world.

He lay there by himself for an hour or so, again questioning his sanity.

The door slowly opened. The Angel was back. She came to the bedside. She had changed into a sweatshirt and leggings.

"What did you eat?" he asked. He really wanted to know. He wanted to know everything about her, and he wanted to hear the sound of her talking.

"Burger King. It was the only thing around. Besides some diner that looked like it was going to collapse." She laughed, and it was the most beautiful sound in the world.

"That sounds absolutely delightful."

"Yeah." Tilting her head, she asked "Erik, are you okay with me staying here with you for a while? You can tell me when you need privacy. You just…have to tell me what you want."

"What do you want?" he asked.

"Well, to stay here. I searched for you for such a long time. I like being with you."

His heart clenched. When she said bizarre things like that, he could only give her the truth. "Stay."

She smiled and resumed her position at his side. He was very aware of her body pushed against him, of her hand on his chest. He hoped she would not scream when he raised his weakened arm and brought his fingers to her soft hair. She didn't. She only sighed when he touched her.

"What the hell are you doing here, Angel," he whispered without malice. "This is going to kill me."

"I hope not," she whispered back. "Otherwise, I just spent sixty-three dollars on music for nothing."

" _What?"_

"Some pieces we could try together. I found them online. If you'd like."

Her gentle humor, dark enough for him to appreciate, along with her closeness allowed him to relax a little. While he did not trust the situation, the future, he somehow trusted her. He remembered her words to him in SCI, how hard she had fought to save his wretched life. He had never really trusted anyone before. His fingers threaded their way into her hair. He had to understand what could come next and what could not. Before she disappeared again.

Once they were settled, he said, "In SCI, I could do so much with you. I could take you out in the daytime. People would look at us and not scream, not wonder why a beautiful young girl was with an ugly middle-aged monster. I could exist with you."

Her hand rubbed his chest. "I know there were parts of it that were wonderful for you. For your sake, I sometimes had second thoughts."

"But for yourself as well. If you…If you mean as you said, he would be better for you. _He_ was a musician, too, wasn't he? So you could keep music."

"He wasn't nearly as good as you."

He chuckled at the firmness in her voice. "Likely not. But he was not a wanted criminal. His mind was less distorted. He was kind to you, wasn't he?"

"And you don't think you can be kind to me?" she asked, looking up. There was no judgment in her voice, yet she studied him in a way that made him uncomfortable.

"No! I mean, yes. Yes, I want to always be kind to you. You deserve nothing but that. But I am nothing but this hideous individual who has done wretched things that will follow me forever."

"I don't care about your face. So that's not even a consideration for me, okay? There are other issues that are important. The pills, for one. But we don't have to talk about that right now. We can give it some time."

 _The pills._ He had not thought about the red demons until she mentioned them then. He felt such sickening shame. They had precipitated his entire decline into madness. He replied, "I have been off of them since the day you first saw my face. I would die before taking them again. The second my hand reached for them, I would cut it off."

"That's wonderful to hear, Erik. You just have to promise to tell me or Nadir if you're ever struggling with thoughts of them. If you ever want them, you have to talk to us. Or even Gabby. Don't be alone in that."

She spoke in terms of the future, and that made him feel crazy. _How could she?_ He tried again. "I am a wanted man. I cannot take you on a damned walk down the street without someone shrieking or calling the police. I cannot take you out to dinner. In SCI - "

"In SCI, I couldn't taste the food. Nothing looks real. Nothing feels right. And I wasn't the only one who felt it. You did, too. You knew it wasn't real, and it took all of your energy to function."

"You were honestly not happy there?" he asked with slight despair.

"Not really." She leaned up and kissed the corner of his mouth. "But you should be happy, too, Erik. We'll figure it all out, okay?"

It suddenly dawned on him what he was really asking her to do. To give up her existence so that she could be permanently plugged into a virtual reality system with him. To let her muscles waste away. To be fed with tubes.

For some, for Alice, that was the best they could have. That was the best life possible.

But not for Christine. Her body was young and healthy, and he was asking her to relinquish her life.

He felt sick again because there was no way out now.

"I'd like to spend some time with you out here," she said. "Is that okay?"

"How much time?" he whispered.

"It depends on what you want."

He would not go back into SCI without her. There was simply no point.

 _What the hell am I going to do?_

"Are you comfortable sleeping in your mask?" she asked.

"I am fine." He could not be both weak and revolting in front of her. That would be too much.

"If we turn off the light, would you feel more comfortable taking it off?"

He did crave the darkness. Perhaps he would feel less out of control. She reached up and switched off the bedside lamp. She didn't reach for his mask, only lying back down and resuming her position.

Silence. Minutes and minutes of silence.

And then he again asked, "How long, Christine?"

"Hm?"

"How long will you stay?"

"I told you that depends on if you want to go back to SC - "

" _No._ If I do not go back there, how long will you stay?"

"Well," she hesitantly began. "if you can make me a couple promises, I'll stay…forever." She swallowed. "I didn't come all this way to leave you. I told you that I loved you. I wouldn't say that if I weren't going to stay."

He could not stop the strange noise that escaped the back of his throat, like the sound a small wounded animal might make. A hideous, strangled sound. "You cannot…"

"Sh. We don't have to figure everything out right now. One day at a time."

"But I am so…so…" His face was warm, wet, and sticky. He felt as though he were going to suffocate, which wasn't really the way he wanted to die. His arms feebly moved to remove the cheap plastic object from his face. He struggled to hold them up as his hands fumbled for the strings. She reached up to help him, her hands briefly brushing against his. They finally removed the mask, and he placed it on the nightstand. Shaking, he lay back down. He felt her watching him.

He froze as she leaned in. He felt a softness on his bare cheek, a warmth. She was kissing him. It was only brief, and then she lay back down.

He felt her acceptance.

He did not know if he could keep her.

But at least he had her for a moment, a night.

* * *

She was so grateful when he allowed her to stay with him. He allowed her to be kind to him, to touch him. He at least somewhat trusted her.

In the early morning hours, with his little strength, he had turned toward her. Not knowing what he wanted, she had helped him come to her. He had buried his face into her shoulder, a hand resting on the top of her chest, his fingers curled. On her back, she had wrapped her arms around him and kissed the top of his head. She held him tightly until sunrise.

Gabby didn't knock, probably trying to give them privacy. Christine heard Erik begin to swallow frequently and sensed his physical discomfort.

 _Why didn't he speak up?_ She sadly realized that he didn't want their time together to end. _Had he slept at all?_

She gently moved away to give him relief. "I guess I'd better get up. Should I find Gabby?"

"Yes," he reluctantly murmured, rolling to the other side. He was reaching for his mask.

"I'll see you soon," she said. He didn't reply.

She found Gabby sitting in a plastic lawn chair outside her room, drinking a mug of coffee. "Everything okay?" Gabby asked with a twinkle in her eye.

"Yep. I think he's ready for you to see him."

Gabby nodded and left. Nadir soon came out of his nearby room, adjusting his white shirtsleeves. "Good morning, Christine. I thought I heard you out here."

"Good morning."

"Everything well?"

"Yes, I think so." She still wasn't completely comfortable talking to Nadir about Erik. "I think he's doing okay."

Nadir nodded. "Could we talk for a moment?"

"Um. Sure." She followed him into the room. He sat in a wooden chair around the little table. She sat across from him.

"We need to leave soon," Nadir began. "Don't be alarmed. I haven't seen anything suspicious. Whoever that federal man was, he kept things pretty quiet. But it's still not good to linger."

"Right. Where should we go?"

"How would you feel about going back into the mountains? I think Corey is going to take off soon. Gabby will come with us while she's needed. And I'll stay for as long as I deem it necessary." He studied her.

"That sounds great. I mean, Erik needs to get better. Then we can decide what to do long-term, right?"

"Exactly. So you trust me with this situation?"

"Well," Christine began, nervously rubbing her hands together. "I think so. I just…I need you to have some faith in him. He's so different from what I remember. So sad."

"That's because he's weak. This won't last forever."

"That may be part of it, but it's not all of it. I think he wants to change certain things about himself, but he's afraid that he can't. I can give him all the support in the world. But if he could have both of us behind him, it would be…really good."

"And I want to help him. I may at times have to be the bad cop, so to speak. Actually, I really was a cop, so - Does that make it more or less funny? I don't know." She cracked a smile at his awkward humor. "I refuse to tolerate certain behaviors."

"I do, too!" she insisted. "And he knows that. He knows that there are certain things he can't do. But he's already terrified that he's going to make a mistake. I want you to understand that."

"I do understand." Nadir shook his head. "You have quite the road ahead of you. I won't stop you from taking it. But I hope you don't have any regrets."

"I won't. I've worked so hard to get here. And the way he looks at me…I think it will be okay."

"I hope you are right." After a moment, Nadir stood and stretched. "You should probably tell Corey goodbye soon. I don't think he wants to disturb you."

"Oh! He can't leave without saying goodbye. Yes, I'll see him right now." She started to leave but paused and said, "Thank you, Nadir. For giving us a place to go."

"Least I could do," he replied. "I guess I'd better go talk to Erik now. He can't be happy with me. But maybe some time with you has softened him up?"

Christine laughed. "Maybe. Holler if you need me."

"Believe me – I will."

* * *

Nadir soon entered the room, and Erik sharply looked at him. Then Erik glanced away and seemed disappointed.

Nadir inwardly grinned. He supposed that he wasn't quite as attractive as Christine. "Hello, Erik. How are you feeling?"

"Perfectly fine."

"I'm sure you're not happy with me. You don't know how sorry I am for what happened. I will take the full blame for all that."

"She is alive," Erik replied. "If she were not, I would have killed you."

"I suppose so." Nadir sat in a chair across from him. "How are you really doing, Erik?"

"Fine."

"Did you have a good talk with Christine?"

"…Yes."

"Good. I've told her what I think the plan should be. Now I'll tell you." Nadir filled Erik in on his talk with the strange man, including his suspicions about the government's real concerns. Then he told Erik about the cabin. "I can you keep there until your better. And then we can make some other decisions." Erik didn't say anything. "Corey is leaving. Gabby will come up for a little while to make sure that you're okay. Then she'll go."

"And yourself?" Erik asked.

"I'm going to stick around until I determine that everything is…"

"Not going to be a disaster."

"Yes."

"And Christine."

"She can do whatever she wants. But I think you know what she wants." Erik blinked. Nadir hesitantly continued, "You have a real second chance instead of an artificial one. You'll call me a nuisance and a busybody, but I'll stick around to make sure everything's okay. Surely that's worth what you're being offered. What do you think?"

"I can barely think, Khan. I can barely move."

"I realize that. And I realize that you can't even make a decision right now. Your real decision will come once you're back to your old self, when you're stronger than Christine and me. All you can do today is say 'yes' or 'no.'"

"Do you expect me to say 'no'?" Erik murmured.

Nadir nearly snorted. "Why would you even consider it?"

"Because I am horrible. And she is perfect."

"Hm. You have regrets, don't you? That's good. It shows strength. Even I sometimes have trouble admitting when I'm wrong."

"Vaughan and Christine."

"Before that." Nadir leaned forward. "I used you to move up in my career."

"I know. You were smart to do so."

"But I told myself that you didn't care, that you enjoyed that life. I didn't acknowledge what it was doing to your psyche. And, once I finally pulled you out, I expected you to easily get over it. That was wrong, and I am sorry."

Erik rolled his eyes. "Khan. I was beyond help anyway. Beyond everything. You were much less horrible than anyone else I knew back then. Do not think on it."

"You weren't beyond help, Erik. I just didn't have the patience to give it to you." Nadir looked toward the door. "Anyway, we had our time – and it was exciting and utterly screwed up. But that's over now. Now it's about what's doing best for her. And, the thing is, I can't answer that question. You are the only one who knows if you can be good to her. If you can be unselfish with her. If you can stop treating all of humanity as the enemy. I can't do that for you. Neither can she."

A long silence followed. Erik could only say, "I love her."

"I know."

"I want more time with her."

"You'll get as much time as she gives you."

Erik didn't say anything after that. At first, Nadir was a little disappointed that he didn't receive a firmer answer from Erik. But then Nadir supposed that was for the best. A cocky, confident Erik declaring that he had everything under control – well, that might have been the first sign that everything was not going to be fine at all.

But the hesitation…the fragility…the fear – Nadir took all of that as a sign that Erik at least grasped the seriousness of this situation.

And so when Christine returned to that room, returned to Erik's side – Nadir felt slightly less worried for her as he departed.


	51. Chapter 51

Thanks for your patience. Sometimes the chapters that wrap everything up can be challenging. One more chapter and then the Epilogue after this. I'll try to make sure most of the characters are included in the latter.

The second half of this chapter references intimacy. Definitely not smut. But it is perhaps a little uncomfortable at times.

 **Read and Review!**

It was after Christine returned that Corey slowly began to feel like an outsider. He sensed that, whatever was coming, he didn't quite fit within it. Eventually, Gabby and Nadir might find themselves in the same position. But, for now, they were still needed.

"You could help drive up to Colorado," Nadir had suggested after Corey said he was thinking about taking off.

"If you really need me, I'll help," Corey had replied. "But, otherwise, it's probably time for me to get back. I need to tell Alice everything that's happened. I tried to call her, but she's back in the System. And I need to get back to work."

"I completely understand. And I think we'll be fine with the four of us. Thank you so much for your help."

"Sure." Corey had shaken his hand. He remembered when he had first met Nadir. Daniel had taken him to a restaurant. Along with Raoul Chagny, they had all had a heated meeting about saving Christine…from Erik.

Things had really changed.

He went back to his room. He didn't have too much packing to do, grabbing his toothbrush off the sink and picking a pair of socks up from the floor. There was a knock at his door. Remembering what Nadir had sound about being cautious, Corey looked through the peephole before opening it. He smiled.

"You'd better not leave without saying goodbye to me!" Christine exclaimed, hands on her hips.

"I wasn't going to!" Although Corey probably wouldn't have interrupted her and Erik.

"Well, I'm sad you're leaving, but I understand. You've already done so much. I'll never be able to repay you." Her voice caught.

"Aw. I was happy to help both you and Alice."

Christine nodded. "Tell her 'thank you' for me, okay? Without you both, I'm not sure he would have survived…."

"I will. Definitely."

She reached out, and Corey gave her a hug. "Maybe we'll see you around someday. We can meet up."

Corey doubted that would happen any time soon. Still, he said, "Yeah, if you're ever in the area, give me a call."

"Definitely."

She released him and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "You're welcome to say goodbye to Erik. I know he appreciates everything you've done, too. He's just…" She chuckled. "Having a hard time being so weak."

Corey hesitated. "You can tell him goodbye for me. Tell him…it was nice to meet him. Both versions of him."

"All right."

"You take care, Christine."

"You, too." She soon left, casting one last glance toward him before heading out the door.

Corey didn't know what she was thinking. If he had to guess, though, it was that she still needed a little help. Hopefully, she would have that with Gabby and Nadir.

He eventually found a bus and then a shuttle that took him to the nearest airport. With only a couple of delays, he arrived home late that night and went straight to bed. After catching a few hours of extra sleep the next morning, he headed in for work. He apologized to his supervisor for taking the unexpected days off. He checked his phone, but there were no calls.

As soon as he was in the System, he headed for Alice's apartment. He prayed that her memory hadn't been erased again. Corey wouldn't have tolerated it. Thankfully, her memory was intact. She ran up to him and gave him a hug, then begged him to explain what had happened.

Corey told her everything, from the death of Hope to the chase with Nicholas to the happy ending, and Alice smiled tearfully with relief. "So it's over now," she said when he was finished. "Erik is where he wants to be."

"I think so," said Corey. "I don't think he's coming back here."

"That's good. I think that's the way it should be."

"Me, too."

They were now sitting on the front step of her apartment, staring out at the street. The false sun shone down from the late morning sky. The adventure was finished. Corey felt both relieved and a little melancholy. _What next?_ Would he continue working here? Now that Hope was gone, would SCI be an ethical place? And Alice…

"So Leigh called and said they'd organized a volleyball game for tomorrow. Wanna come?" she asked. Her tone didn't give him any definite answers, only indicated that it was time to move forward in one way or another.

"Yes," said Corey with a smile. "I'll definitely be there."

* * *

"Corey left," said Christine when she returned to Erik's room. His eyes lit up as soon as she came in. It warmed her heart that her mere existence, presence, could have that effect on someone.

Erik blinked. "You are disappointed?"

"Oh, no. He already helped a lot. I wouldn't have gotten to you without him."

"So I should blame him for the ruination of your life then?"

"Erik! You should _thank_ him for giving us both what we want."

"Perhaps another way to look at it," Erik murmured.

"The only way to look at it." She took a seat beside him and crossed her legs. "So what do you think of Nadir's plan?"

"It is what you want?"

"Yeah. I think it's a great idea for now. You'll have help getting better. We'll have privacy. I've been up there. It's a beautiful place."

"Then that is what we will do."

"Erik, you have to say what you want, too."

"You are here. I find it difficult to care about anything else. I could live in a Siberian cave and be fine."

She leaned down and gave him a kiss. After a hesitation, she felt him lean forward and tentatively kiss her back.

After that, there was less to talk about and more to do.

They packed up the cars, paid for one more day at the motel, and left in the evening. Christine sat in Nadir's passenger seat, and Erik reclined in the backseat. Gabby would drive behind Nadir. Nadir would be very, very careful to follow all traffic laws. If he were stopped, though, that was Gabby's cue to drive past him going a hundred miles per hour and swerving all over the road. The policeman's attention would be quickly diverted.

"I have a spotless driving record," said Gabby. "One reckless driving charge won't kill me."

Nadir said to Erik, "If this doesn't work, if the worst happens, don't resist arrest. I promise I'll figure it out. Or you will – once you get your strength back."

The thought of that happening made Christine sick to her stomach. Still, she agreed with Nadir. "You have to stay alive, Erik. I will never stop looking for you." He had barely nodded, which wasn't all that reassuring.

Once they were driving on the highway, Christine couldn't help but glance back at him frequently.

"Do I amuse you?" he asked. His tone wasn't too harsh, though.

"No! I'm just making sure you're okay."

"I am fine," he said. "Trapped in this sticky seat but fine."

They stopped a couple of times to stretch and so that Gabby could make sure that Erik was physically doing well. They did not stop to eat, so their diet consisted of chips, candy bars, beef jerky, and water. Christine couldn't wait for a home cooked meal. Maybe she would see if Gabby wanted to help her make one. Chicken. Mashed potatoes with gravy. Apple pie. Her mouth watered at the mere thought.

Without incident, they arrived by the middle of the next morning, after winding through deserts and then forests and mountains. She could smell the pine in the air, feel it growing chillier. Erik stared out the windows. She wondered if he had ever been to a place like this as his real self. A place where the most dangerous thing around was the occasional bear. She wondered if it made him happy to be here. He was so quiet, and she couldn't read his expression.

Gabby and Nadir helped Erik out of the car and into the cabin. Christine began to collect what little luggage they had. Erik lay on the guest bed, and it was silently assumed that Christine would stay with him. Gabby would take a pullout couch. (There were a couple of nights she didn't sleep on the couch. Christine politely chose not to say anything about this to either of them.)

The guest bed was a little small, designed for one person, but Christine was perfectly happy lying close to Erik over those next nights. And Erik never complained. She got up and found Gabby when he needed help that he didn't want Christine to provide.

"What do you want to eat?" Christine asked him a day later. Nadir was completely out of food, and she and Gabby were going to take a trip to the nearest grocery store. Meanwhile, Nadir was dealing with getting all the rental cars back to proper locations.

"Anything is fine."

"Everything is fine. That's all you ever say now," she teased. "You must have some kind of preference. Anything?"

"Perhaps…peaches."

"Peaches?" She couldn't help but grin.

"Yes. If they are available. What is so funny? You asked, didn't you?"

"Nothing is funny. Just…I like to find out these little details. I like to know about you."

He looked so uncertain for a moment, blinking up at her. It was very subtle, but she saw him reach out for her with an arm that was growing stronger. He wanted a kiss. She eagerly gave it to him. She wrapped her arms around his pale neck.

"I love you," he hoarsely said as she embraced him.

"I love you, too," she firmly replied.

Those first couple of weeks were the easiest in some ways. Nadir got his Wi-Fi working well so they had access to the rest of the world. She would recline next to Erik with a laptop, reading or showing him things online. He saw a couple of her performances while with the band. The pictures were a little grainy, probably recorded with someone's phone, but her voice was clear. Christine caught Erik listening to them by himself more than one time.

She would help Gabby make meals, everything from soups to casseroles to pasta dishes, easier recipes. She would venture out with Nadir into the woods, taking long walks down dirt trails and looking over the snowcapped mountains. She saw deer and rabbits, the occasional hiker.

Physically, Erik continued to improve. He was holding himself in a sitting position without support. His arms had a wider range of motion, and he could eat and drink by himself. Still, he gave little indication as to what he was thinking. When she asked, "Do you need some time to yourself?"

He usually replied with something like, "I have had enough time to myself to last an eternity, my dear."

She so hoped that he was happy.

A certain night eventually arrived. It was probably around midnight when she was awoken. Erik was sitting on the edge of the bed.

"Should I get Gabby?" she asked, wondering if he wasn't feeling well. Her heart beat a little faster.

"I am fine," he whispered in a tone that didn't leave much room for argument.

She watched as Erik shakily stood, refraining from offering a hand to help him. He used the walls and the furniture to steady himself, stumbling a couple of times. Gabby must have heard him in the hallway because Christine suddenly heard her voice - "You should have woken me up."

Erik grumbled something back. In any case, he nearly made the journey by himself.

"How long have you been able to get up?" Christine asked when he returned. Even in her sleepy haze, she knew what it meant.

"Days," he replied staring upward. "Bit by bit. When you are gone, I exercise as often as possible."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"I would have when I was fully functional. And…"

"And what?"

"And you are not afraid of me when I am helpless. Perhaps I should never get up again."

"Erik, I am not afraid of you. I'm happy for you. I know you don't like being stuck in bed."

But she understood what he was saying. Things would change soon. Erik had to prove to Nadir that, after he recovered, he still wouldn't be dangerous.

Lying in bed, Christine came to a decision. Before Erik was back to his full strength, she would take care of everything else. That way, she could give the situation her full attention.

"I need to go back home and take care of some things," she said to Nadir the next morning. "I wanted to make sure that Erik was getting better before I left. He is. He's doing really well. I have to break my lease…pack some stuff…store some stuff."

"Sounds good," said Nadir, glancing up from his bowl of Cheerios. He didn't seem bothered at all. "Gabby knows it's about time for her to go. Erik can take care of himself now. I can help him when needed. Maybe you can go back with her."

When she gently gave this news to Erik, he sharply glanced away from her. She knew what he was thinking, and it was so ridiculous. "I'd wait for you to be able to go with me, but I don't think it's safe for you there now." And she knew Nadir wouldn't be happy. "I'm going to come back as fast as I can."

"Of course," he dully replied. "That is fine."

"Erik, you know I'm coming back, right? You can't think I'm not even for a second. I'm so happy here."

"Of course." He nodded.

It was too soon for him to believe her. Someday, he would. For now, at least he wasn't trying to stop her from going.

She kissed him soundly before she left. Gabby told him goodbye with tears in her eyes. She told him to call her if needed.

Christine prayed that everything would be okay while she was gone. Before leaving, she ordered both men to – " _Please_ be nice to each other."

* * *

"You know she's coming back," Khan stated, standing in the corner with his arms folded.

 _He_ did not _know_ that. He only knew that it felt like chilled death when she left. The warmth of the last couple of weeks lifted away with her. He felt dread in the pit of his stomach, even as his thoughts attempted to remain rational. He didn't say anything. He only sat there in the living room, staring at nothing.

It was the first time since returning that he wanted to be numb. That special kind of numb.

But…he would never do _it._ Even if she never came back. He would allow himself to starve to death, to die of dehydration, before he returned to _that._

Nadir kept an annoyingly close eye on him. "You probably need some instruments, don't you?" Khan eventually suggested. "A violin or something. Then you can figure out what you want to do to make a living."

 _He_ did not feel like talking. "I do not want to make a living if she does not come back. I will cause you no trouble, but I do not want to live.

"I know that," Khan murmured, scratching the back of his head. "I'd tell you that's not healthy, but, in your case, I'm not sure there's much that can be done about it. You'll just have to distract yourself until she returns."

But –she called him. Every day. In the evening. She called Nadir and asked to speak to _him._

The first time, he was confused. "What is wrong?"

"Nothing!" she said with a laugh. "I called to see how you were doing."

"…Why?"

She laughed again. "Because that's what couples do. Call each other when they're apart." She told him about her day. Packing up boxes, cleaning. Gabby was helping. "It shouldn't take that much longer."

He was a _couple_ now? Or half of one. The concept seemed so alien in his mind. Hiding in shadows, he had skulked past so many _couples_ in his lifetime, casting them a resentful glance before scurrying into another hole.

Those phone calls saved his sanity. So he continued to gain his strength. Nadir helped him procure clothing and a better mask. So he could greet her, dressed properly and not like a hospital patient, when she returned.

And she did come back, as she had promised.

She ran up and threw her arms around his neck. "Erik, you look wonderful!"

"I do not think that 'wonderful' would ever quite describe my appearance," he replied. He held on tightly and swallowed the lump in his throat. The warmth of her body pressed against his was soothing. His heart calmed, and the anxious tension in his stomach faded.

"Look what Nadir helped me buy." She reached behind her and displayed a gift. She had found a violin. A decent one. "A piano would have been too heavy for me to carry. But I did get this!"

"That is…thank you," he managed to say, still unused to this sort of treatment. He took it into his hands, running his fingers along the smooth wood and the taut strings. "Now I can hear your voice again."

"Exactly," she replied with a grin. "Now that you're better, we can do a lot of things. We can have music, take walks in the woods. Whatever we want…" She looked to the side, and he was not sure what she was thinking about. He did not care at that moment. She was back. And he was better.

And now…now everything was going to change.

And it did. Quickly. Several nights later, he was faced with something that he never believed he would encounter in his lifetime. Even after she told him that she loved him.

"I missed you," she said in the dark. "Especially at night. I got lonely sleeping by myself."

"I could not function," he admitted. "I put on a good show for Nadir, pretending to be sane. Do not tell him that."

She giggled, her head resting on his shoulder. "Well, you look good to me. Healthy." She kissed him, and he returned the affection. He was becoming better at that, he hoped. She kept kissing him, a hand resting on his bare cheek. He hoped it did not feel disgusting for her, that she was not doing this simply for his sake.

She finally leaned back. He stared upward, expecting her to rest beside him as she usually did.

But she did not. She remained propped up on one elbow, staring at him.

"Are you well?" he finally asked her.

"Yeah." She swallowed. "I want you to know that I…I love you."

"I love you, too," he replied, his heart skipping a beat. _Why wouldn't she lie down? What was coming? The only person he feared in the world was the same person he loved._

"And I want you to know…Gosh, I'm bad at this. I don't have a lot of experience. None, really. You know, I was always…my dad died and then my mom…I had to take care of her. I didn't have a lot of time for relationships. But I want you to know that I _want_ you. When you want to…."

His brain attempted to untangle her words.

After a moment, she continued, "And we can take it very slowly. That's probably better. But…well, we already sleep together. So it won't be that slowly. But we can, um -"

"Take what slowly?" he whispered.

"Well, like, um, being…being intimate?" she stuttered.

Her hand started to settle on his arm, but he quickly turned away from her, onto his tightening stomach. He faced away and stared at the wall. In retrospect, it was such a horrible response to her. But he was unable to think of her at that moment, of how she felt. He heard her shakily breathing behind him and knew he had to provide some sort of response. "I am too ugly, Christine." That said it all, didn't it? Now she would realize her error and go to sleep. And never speak of this again.

"You still think that I care about your face?" she asked, her voice hoarse and offended. "After all this?"

He said nothing, as still as a corpse.

"Erik, please talk to me. Tell me what's wrong. I didn't want to upset you. I thought…"

He remembered what they had said to him when torturing him, when making him believe that they had blinded and castrated him. _"We did you a favor. Who would want to fuck you?"_

It had been their way of making him believe that being a monster, that killing, was all he was good for.

Even after finding out the truth, that it was all a trick, he had supposed they were quite right. _Who would want to?_

He felt sudden terror at the fact that he, in all of his ugliness and awfulness, was being asked to introduce her to…that…

When he barely knew what he was supposed to do, outside of the general mechanics. What if he traumatized her? There would be no coming back.

His thoughts became inflamed and frantic, vile memories circling in his mind. Horrible visions of the future.

And he could not turn around and face her for the rest of the night. He could say nothing, offer no comfort as panic engulfed him. She eventually moved away from him to the other side of the bed. She tossed and turned, and he felt horrible for causing her distress.

He did not sleep either.

* * *

"What's wrong with Erik? He's been sitting out there all day." Nadir nodded toward the window. They could see Erik's head as he sat in a plastic lawn chair on the back porch. The sun had just began to set on a day that Nadir had found rather unsettling.

Christine was sitting on the couch with a book. She looked up, shrugged, and then looked back down.

"Christine," Nadir began in a warning tone. "I need one of you to not keep secrets. If something is beginning to go downhill, I need to know right now."

"Everything is fine."

Nadir inwardly rolled his eyes. She sounded like Erik saying that. "Is he craving the pills?"

"No!" She put the book down, not bothering to mark the page. "That's not it."

"Then what is it?"

"It's embarrassing, okay? I can't discuss it with you. It's not…bad. I mean, it's nothing b-bad that Erik wants to do."

"Oh." Nadir blinked. "Can you at least give me an idea?"

"Oh, God." She glanced to the side and seemed to think about it. "No. I really can't."

"Why?"

"I can't talk about this. I'm sorry." She jumped up and ran to the bedroom, firmly closing the door behind her.

Nadir really wanted to ignore it. Maybe the issue would go away on its own. But Erik stayed out there all damned day and night.

Then the same thing happened the next day and night.

And the next.

Christine spent most of her time in the bedroom, maybe avoiding Nadir. She would occasionally come out to grab something from the fridge. She would glance at Erik if he were visible and sadly shake her head, appearing conflicted about going out to see him. She always returned to her room, shoulders hunched.

They had both been doing so well until now.

Nadir finally had enough.

Erik came inside the house at 2 AM. Nadir was half-asleep on the couch, waiting for him. Erik was so quiet that it was only the tension in the air that fully woke Nadir. He sat up and rubbed his eyes. "Hello, Erik. I don't know whether to wish you a good evening or a good morning."

Yellow eyes glowered down at him. "What the hell are you doing out here?"

"Waiting for you."

" _Why?"_

"Because. What are you doing out there?"

"Taking a walk. Not that it is any of your business. Unless this place is a prison?"

Nadir frowned. This Erik reminded him a little too much of the one he had known long ago. "Why the sudden dark cloud? What's going on?" He paused and then added, "She's been very unhappy these past few days. I've felt bad for her."

"It is none of your business."

"It damn well is. I care about her. What's caused this? What did you fight about? I don't even know where to begin guessing."

"Get away from me."

"No." Nadir stopped forcing the issue. "Aren't you going to bed?" Erik said nothing and stared out the window. "No, you're not. You're avoiding her. Why?" Silence. Nadir sighed. "She won't tell me. You won't tell me. But I'm forced to live with you both while you mope."

"No, you are not," Erik coldly replied. "You may leave whenever the hell you want."

"This is my home! And if you think I'm leaving while things are this bad, you're out of your mind."

"We already know that I am quite out of my mind."

Nadir slapped his forehead. "I have trusted her to be the mature one. But whatever has happened is obviously upsetting for her. So I need you to be the mature one right now, as ridiculous as that seems. If you care about her, please try to work this out. Does she really deserve this? You really want to keep hurting her?" Nadir's voice wavered, signifying just how much he had come to care about Christine, almost like a daughter. Which made the next part all the more awkward…

Nadir finally got partway through to Erik. The intense anger faded from those yellow eyes. Erik took a slow and heavy seat on the couch, shoulders falling backwards. "She wants…"

"She wants what?" No response. "She wants to live somewhere else? She wants to go to school?"

"No."

"Then what..." He suddenly remembered how red Christine's face had turned, her mortification. "Oh." Finally, he understood, and he felt very uncomfortable. _Oh, God._ _Now I want to go to my room and hide along with her._ But he could not have imagined - "And you don't?" Erik didn't respond. "Why?" No response. "Is it physiological?"

Erik visibly cringed. " _No."_

"Psychological, then?"

"I should have returned to SCI."

"Why? Everything has been fine until this."

"I should have died."

"Erik, for the love of God. Take a deep breath and stop being so dramatic. She loves you. If she didn't want…this, it would be a much bigger problem. Surely you feel the same way about her?"

Erik said nothing.

"I don't know what questions to ask right now. But if you aren't…if you're unable…" Nadir trailed off. "I really can't help you until you tell me what the issue is."

"Go away, Khan." Erik sounded tired and defeated. "Leave me alone for once in my damned life."

Nadir shook his head. "Fine. You do what you want. But I'm not going to watch her suffer forever. Talk to her soon. Tell her whatever needs to be said. Or tell me so that I can tell her. Or Gabby - she's a nurse, if that helps the situation." Erik just stared at the wall. Nadir stood up. "I'm going to bed. You should, too. Talk to her. Before you regret how far you've pushed her away. You will regret it. You at least have to know that."

Nadir left Erik sitting there with his thoughts. He sincerely hoped they would figure this one out.

He didn't know how many conversations about that topic he would survive.

* * *

Christine was awoken by their voices. She wondered what they were fighting about. Probably Erik's attitude over the past few days, his avoidance of everyone. Christine curled into a ball beneath the covers, feeling terrible as the knot in her stomach tightened. She felt so hopelessly naïve over the whole stupid thing.

Partly because, throughout her entire life, she had been taught – or at least it had been implied - that the man would eagerly take the initiative. During her first time, at least. Raoul had been completely understanding and patient, but Christine knew that, if she had been ready, he would have happily shown her the way. She just needed to consent. And then there were all the magazines and the online articles that she'd run across.

Still, hearing about it and reading about it were much different than actually doing it. Now, she felt lost and ridiculous. Alone and clueless. She had messed everything up and upset Erik. And she didn't even know what she had done wrong. She didn't want to talk about it with Nadir. She considered calling Gabby, who had already given her a little assistance with something back home. Maybe she would do that tomorrow.

To her surprise, the door softly creaked open. She was turned away from it, on her stomach. She pretended to be asleep, mostly to not scare him away. It had been days since he had slept beside her.

Erik climbed into the bed and lay down. She could hear him softly breathing.

In frustration, she also kind of wanted to yell at him.

 _No, Christine. Breathe. You knew there were going to be hard parts. Just…give him some space._

She let it go that night. She left him alone, let him rest. She was able to uneasily sleep. And, in the early morning hours, he whispered to her, "It is raining."

"Yep," she murmured. She carefully turned to look at him. "That'll be nice." After several moments, she dared to come closer. He didn't move away. Her side touched his. And, honestly, she might not have approached the topic again for a long time.

But then he said, "Forgive me, Angel. I did not mean to upset you."

"It's all right," she whispered. "I'm sorry, too, if I did anything wrong."

Several minutes ticked by. She started to doze off again until he said, "Did you only want _that_ to please me?"

It took her a second to understand what he was asking. "No! Of course not."

" _Why_ would you want that?"

"Because…because I love you." She had to ask, "Don't you want to someday?"

"Not if it sickens you." Before she could respond, he added, "If we did, you have to promise…"

"Promise what?"

"If it is horrible, you will not leave. If you do not want to do it again, that is fine. I will never ask you to. But I could not bear it if you left because of that."

"Erik, I promise. I would never leave. There's nothing to worry about. But - I thought it was what you wanted, too. You are...you are attracted to me like that, right?" It seemed like such a stupid question, but she was honestly starting to wonder.

He nearly scoffed. "Of course I am attracted to you. How can you even ask that?"

"I'm confused," she whispered. "I don't understand."

He was quiet for so long that she thought he wasn't going to give her an answer. "When one lives alone underground for decades, one tends to dampen their expectations." A pause. "I have not allowed myself to want that. How destructive was I when I simply wanted your presence in my life, when I wanted to hold your hand? I suppressed the rest of it. Otherwise, I would have been pure evil instead of only very horrible."

She understood what he was saying. He had become this way to protect her from himself. "But you don't have to suppress that now. I want you."

"And you will have to give me a bit of time to believe that. I have spent so much time and energy suppressing it. I…unfortunately am not a light switch."

"My Erik," she murmured. She wrapped her arms around him with no expectations of anything else. "We have all the time in the world." She finally understood that she hadn't done anything wrong. She should have known. But she had insecurities, too. This was all so new.

They didn't that morning, not even close. Or the next night, although there was cuddling. But eventually they lay there unclothed after Erik had weakly admitted that he could "not stop thinking about that conversation now." She had suggested this as a first step.

Her head rested on his shoulder. Her hand lay on his chest. "Our hearts are beating really fast," she whispered.

"I hope I do not die of a heart attack."

"Yeah, that might ruin this for me forever," she said with a shaky laugh.

"Then I will try not to die."

"Thanks, Erik. That's very romantic."

"I am a regular Don Juan," he wryly replied.

Neither of them moved until her foot brushed against his leg. "We'll be okay," she stated. "There's only so many ways it can go, I think."

"The Internet begs to differ."

She snorted. "Yeah, I did some online research, too."

A pause. And then he laughed in his beautiful voice, and she felt her entire body warmly tingle. "Did you honestly?"

"Well, yeah. I'm a millennial, I think. We use it for everything."

"Ah."

"What year were you born?"

"1976."

"Generation X, then," she stated. Her fingers gently stroked his bare skin, and she nuzzled her face into his neck. "What day were you born?"

"I do not know."

"Then we'll pick a day."

"For what?"

"To celebrate your birthday."

"There is really not much to celebrate. Perhaps you could wear all black in a day of mourning."

"Erik, no! What's your favorite kind of cake?"

"I do not know. I…I cannot even think of that right now. You smell wonderful." His voice was muffled by her hair. He turned toward her and wrapped his arms around her torso.

She pressed herself into him. "What do I smell like?"

"Christine. I do not know. Something very magnificent."

"Better than cake?" she teased, allowing herself to relax against him.

" _Yes."_ She could hear him breathing heavily into her ear. The tips of his fingers ran up and down her hips. "I promised myself I would never do this to you," he whispered. "So many times. I promised so many times."

"With me, Erik. You can do this _with_ me. And if you just want to lie here like this for a while, that's fine, too."

"I want...Are you sure you want...?"

"Yes."


	52. Chapter 52

**First, I wanted to let you know that the first episode for the "Of Threnodies and Roses" audio play is up. Please see my profile for the link. The creator and cast did an amazing and professional job. It has great acting, sounds effects, background music. Even a threatening Erik ;)**

 **And now - here it is. The last real chapter of SCI. I've been writing this story for over two years, and I can't believe it's ending. I will eventually try to get an Epilogue up, when I feel that I can write a good one. But, I have to admit, that I did feel peace ending the story here.**

 **As to what's next, I'm not quite sure. Maybe another POTO story on Amazon. Or maybe inspiration for something new will strike. Thank you all for your support.**

 _He_ immediately forgot why he had ever considered himself above such desires. He had worshiped her as someone to not be touched, only obsessively admired and kept as close as possible. The utter dissonance of that _situation_ had probably driven him mad.

"Was that…as scary as you thought it was going to be?" she asked in the darkness, and he thought she was serious. Until she giggled.

He truthfully replied, "I…I have decided that I do not need to partake in any other activity during my lifetime. Except for that." She laughed again, curled up beside him, her head on his shoulder. And he had to ask, "Are you…okay?" What a stupid, overused word. _Okay._ She would never be that, and it was all his fault.

"Yes. I'm great."

"I will make it better…"

"We'll have lots of time to try different things. Everything is wonderful, Erik."

 _Wonderful._

He had only ever used that word sarcastically.

" _Oh, God. Please. I'll do whatever you want. I'll tell you. Just stop. I'll tell you!"_

" _Wonderful."_

But everything was quite literally wonderful now, wasn't it? He had just…

Well. What more could he ever ask for?

Lying on his back, he floated there in a state of disbelief, unwilling to move and allow the moment to fade into the past. Nothing would ever feel that wonderful again, he was sure. He had finally been permitted to experience one of the oldest human pleasures. With the most lovely angel in the whole world. Christine said something to him, but her words did not register.

He supposed that he slept that night. He pressed himself against her, burying his face into her hair. When she arose first, giving him a kiss on the head before she left, he instantly felt cold and wanted her to return.

Eventually, he forced himself out of bed. He unsteadily dressed and wandered out into the living room, where sunshine streaked through the windows and nearly blinded him.

Nadir stared up at him from the sofa. "Well, she was in a better mood. You look like you are, too." Before _he_ could give a snide reply, Khan continued, "I won't say another word about it. Except that I'm glad that's over." Nadir shook his head and looked back down at his book.

 _He_ was quite relieved when Khan went to bed early that night, as all he thought about was her. Thankfully, she reached for him immediately, pulling him into the bedroom and pressing up against him, whispering, "I thought about you all day."

And he truly understood how wretched unrequited love had been, how it could not even begin to compare to her clinging to him and kissing his face and neck, her hands wandering over him, legs wrapped around him. And she...she kept asking him to touch her, guiding his shaking fingers to her body. He had been so stupid about so many things. So humiliatingly ignorant. Yet he could not dwell on that too long or self-hatred would ruin everything all over again. He wondered if his brain would ever feel quite right. At least his body felt divine, which was a miracle in itself considering how horrible it looked.

Peace returned to the household over the next week. She was happy again. He played the violin for her every evening, sometimes outside, and she continued with her singing. They took long walks. She would read beside him as he pondered his new circumstances and dwelt on what came next. His health continued to improve.

Khan noticed that, too. "I think you're back to your old self, aren't you?" he asked one evening, after she had gone to bed.

"Does that frighten you?" _he_ asked.

"Should it?"

"As long you aren't aggravating - no."

Nadir chuckled. "Well. I don't plan on staying with you two forever."

He wanted to know - "And did you plan on me staying here forever?"

A pause. "I considered it. This cabin is better than prison, isn't it? You have her with you. Would it be that bad?"

"No," he replied, honestly. "But…" He looked toward the window. "It would be a small word to keep her in. She deserves more."

"Well, she'll do whatever you want. You know this is the final chance. You have to decide whether you can function out there - where people will stare and sometimes say stupid things. They'll be annoying because many people simply _are_ annoying. Can you handle all that without creating a crime scene?"

"I did it for years, Khan."

"But you were able to hide in a hole. You really can't do that now." Nadir tapped his fingers on the armrest. "And you do need to find work. If only for your sanity. I don't want you getting bored. Idle hands and all that."

"What exactly would you have me do? Create my own call center up here? I do not think I have the personality for customer service."

"No, we'll keep you far away from customers. It shouldn't be too hard for someone of your talents to figure out something. Hell, you could find a job programming in a heartbeat. You could do it from here."

"Yes," he murmured. He could. Honestly, he was not concerned about that. He had never found it difficult to earn money.

But he did not want to lock her away up here. She needed people to hear her, to see her. Even when he had wished to keep her all to himself, he had still wanted her to sing and thrive. She would tell him that she was fine here, that she would stay here forever. But…he wanted her to have a piece of the world.

Could he return to it without destroying it?

* * *

When Erik wasn't wearing his mask, she liked to watch his expressions. A slight widening of the eyes when he was surprised, which occurred whenever she touched him. Followed by relaxation. His muscles would untighten, and his shoulders would fall backwards. His smiles were subtler, as though he were afraid of letting his lips turn completely upwards. She thought he looked more relieved than happy most of the time. But, maybe for Erik, they were nearly the same thing.

Maybe he needed time to revel in the absence of pain before he could embrace actual joy.

After everything was good again, when reluctance had turned to tender eagerness, Nadir spoke to her one morning. "I think I'm going to give you some time to yourselves here."

She looked up from her cereal with surprise. "Where are you going?"

"I thought I'd make sure everything is still going well concerning our…little adventure with Vaughan."

"Is there any bad news?"

"Some investigative journalist picked up on Vaughan's involvement. I don't think they'll figure out Erik's ties to any of it, but they'll wonder why the hell Nicholas was out of prison. I want to make sure that none of us are bothered by it all."

"Hm." Her stomach tightened a little. "At least Erik will be okay if we have to leave. He's strong and healthy again. He can handle it."

"Heh. Yes. Erik can handle things. _Handling_ can take a lot of different meanings, though."

She frowned. "You still don't trust him?"

"I can't answer that quite yet."

She sighed. "But do you expect us to stay here forever?"

"I told him that's up to you both. But that this was the final chance. If anyone else is hurt…"

"I know." Everything had been so good. Thinking about it falling apart was agonizing.

"But there is one thing working in your favor. He has everything to lose now. And he knows it." A pause. "You'll be okay here by yourself?"

"Yes. And I'm not by myself."

"And you have thought all this through until the end?"

"What do you mean?"

Nadir shifted, and his forehead crinkled. "Your life won't be easy; you already know that. But there are other complications to think about. For example, have you thought about children? Not specifically with Erik, but ever? Did you want them?"

"I…" She had been too busy to think about that in detail. It was not something she currently yearned for. "I don't know. It's not important right now."

"But what about in ten years?"

"That's a long ways away…"

"Erik will be in his fifties. You'll be just over thirty. What if you want them, and he does not? What if it is something that he simply does not have the coping skills to handle?"

She shook her head. "It doesn't matter. I want Erik more. I'll be fine either way."

"But-"

"Lots of people don't have children, and they live full lives. You don't have them, Nadir. Do you regret it?"

Nadir sighed. "Well. Maybe not so much. I could not have done the dangerous things I did knowing that I might leave a family behind. I regret not making more room for companionship, I suppose."

She slyly smiled. "I don't think it's too late for that."

He smiled back, and they came to a silent understanding. This was done.

When Nadir prepared to leave several days later, she hugged him goodbye. It was time for him to go, to let them begin their lives, but she would still miss him. Erik stood slightly back, arms folded and mask on.

Nadir looked toward him. "Well, old friend. Maybe I'll see you in a little while. I trust you'll keep things functioning around here. And that you won't steal my things?"

Erik scoffed. "Your things are hardly worth stealing. I will replace them and leave them for you outside in a pile."

Nadir smirked. "Thanks, Erik."

With two suitcases in hand, he left, softly whistling. She stared at the door, taking in the silence. Now everyone was gone except for them. She turned around and looked up at Erik. Was he thinking the same thing? This was the first time that they would be truly alone, in this world, since he had let her go.

He stared back at her, blinking once. She grinned and asked, "Do you think he actually expects us to be responsible adults?"

Her words seemed to disarm him, made him understand that she was his partner. Not his jailer or his monitor. Not his captive or his victim. "If…if he does, then he will be disappointed, won't he?"

"Yes!" She ran up and hugged him. "What do you want to do first?"

Erik had a quick response to that question.

Those were also good days. They took many walks together through the woods. They began on designated hiking trails, but then Erik, always the rebel, would wander off into the trees. She would try to follow until the ground became too uneven and rocky for her to climb. Then he would grab her hand and help her along. She complained a little bit, asked him why they couldn't stay on the trail, but she saw an otter and more deer than she could have imagined. And…a black bear cub.

"Best not to bother that," Erik stated, glancing from side to side. She was already running in the opposite direction. "Really, Christine," he called after her, keeping a leisurely pace. "Now you just make yourself more fun to chase."

"I don't care!" She eventually reached the cabin, slowing down only a little bit toward the end. Erik was already waiting at the door. Her mouth fell open. "I…"

"What took you so long? I was beginning to think the bear had gotten you."

"I'm not talking to you."

In that way, isolation worked for them. Erik only had to interact with her. For the first time in his life, he could relax, and she could love and appreciate him with all his talents and quirks. It thrilled her, knowing that he was hers. And that there was no one like him in the world.

But they could not be completely isolated. At her request, without much protest, he accompanied her to the nearest grocery store one evening. While she went inside to grab a few items, he stayed in the car, listening to classical music on the radio. It was dark out, so no one would bother him.

"You okay?" she asked after she was back in the driver's seat.

"Fine," he replied.

"Maybe you can come in someday, if we find you a better mask. Even if people notice, most will just, you know, glance up and then move on."

Looking away from her, out the window, he reminded her that, "I am a very wanted man, Christine. I do not fear stares. I do not even fear screams. I fear what I will do if someone with a badge and a gun tries to take this all away. I do not know if I could handle such a situation rationally. Best to not provoke one."

"Oh." She reached for his hand, and he allowed her to take it. Once they were back on the road, her mind worked on solutions, but she could only see a few.

Erik spoke again first. "We should really focus on you. Do you want to sing? You were well on your way with that boy."

For a second, she thought he was referring to Raoul. But then she realized that he was talking about Tom. "Uh. I don't think I was that on my way. I think the experience made me more confident. But it wasn't like I was famous."

"You were more on your way than you are now. Even from here, I could perhaps access the proper connections for you. You could continue."

"Erik…"

"I know you would always return to me. I know that."

" _Erik."_ Her tone was firm. "We have both been alone for so long. We've been alone long enough. I don't know exactly what we'll do…where we'll go…but I know that we aren't separating. If you want to stay in this cabin, then I guess it's _our_ home. If you're ready to go, I'll pack a suitcase. Those are the choices."

He sadly laughed, but she could hear slight relief in his voice. "Those are much nicer than the two choices I once gave you."

"I fought hard to get you back. I understand what it meant."

"Meant?"

"We might have to hide for a while. Or go somewhere else. But you are not going to sit alone in this cabin for months while I go sing for a bunch of people that I don't know." She didn't want it in the slightest, not without him. And it would be absolutely horrible for his mind. "Whether I sing or go back to school, you're coming with me."

He hesitated. "I could accompany you. But I would always need to hide. I would be your shadow."

"I know. That's a possibility. But - would you be better off in another country?"

"Yes. My crimes would be less well-known. But – you would really leave with me? The only country you have known?"

"Of course." She added, "We don't have to make a decision right now. We can think about it for a while."

"Ah. I have always tended to plan," he admitted. "I have had to keep several steps ahead, you see. I…"

"I know." She sadly smiled. "But do you have to keep steps ahead of me?"

"No, Angel. I do not." He released a shuddery breath. "But I do not want you to suffer."

"I won't! I'm happy up here. Are you?"

"I think I must be. Because I have never wanted _not_ to die so badly. I have never really feared death until now. Avoided it, I suppose. Sometimes desired it. But not feared it. I want many more years with you. So I think that I must be happy. To want to live so badly. It is a bit…unnerving."

Her eyes teared up at his words. "I want to give you a big hug right now. But that will cause me to crash the car."

"Yes, and that would be rather ironic after I just gave a speech about wanting to live."

She felt so protective of him. And she decided that, unless Erik said otherwise, they would continue to stay at the cabin. This place held the peace that he needed to heal in more ways than one.

Yet – she also suspected that Erik would eventually desire a little more from life. His brain would need stimulation. He would grow restless. And she was right.

If childhood and life had been better to him, she imagined that Erik would have been either an eccentric entrepreneur or an absentminded professor – working the days away on new and exciting projects. He might have been on magazine covers, on the news. He might have authored research papers.

Sometimes she saw glimpses of this person. Whenever he stared off into space for too long, she knew that something of importance was on his mind.

"What are you thinking about?"

He gazed up at the ceiling as they lay in bed one night, eyes wide open and glimmering yellow in the darkness. "Alice."

He rarely mentioned SCI. But she knew that the people there had given Erik a taste of friendship and acceptance. "Maybe we can find a way to visit her someday."

Erik tilted his head. "I think I have disrupted her life enough. But - I had thought of something regarding her health."

"What?"

"She had a medical condition that caused internal pain, as opposed to, say, missing limbs or severe burns. If they could remedy her pain within virtual reality, then it would seem possible to do the same on the outside of it. With an implant, perhaps? I am not entirely familiar with the technology, so it is merely a pondering."

"That would be really cool if you ever figured it out, if it's what she wants."

"We will see."

She hesitated and then asked, "Do you ever miss it there?"

"I miss not being a fugitive. And accompanying you to dinner was certainly an experience I wish to remember. That is really all. The rest was far too artificial. My mind could never fully accept it." He chuckled. "It can barely can accept this."

She kissed his cheek. They lay there a while in the silence.

In a relaxed voice, one she gradually heard more often, Erik asked, "Did you know that there is a theory that this, that real life, is merely a simulation?"

"I think I heard that once. You don't believe it, right?" If he did, she would have concerns that it might be true.

"I doubt it. Although I have no significant evidence to the contrary. If it is, I would certainly like to have a word with the programmer."

She giggled. "Meaning?"

"The individual who designed my face to look like this deserves to have several fingers detached."

"Erik!" A pause. "Are we talking about, like, God?"

"Certainly not the one you were raised with."

"Hm. That's all weird to think about."

"Unimaginably so." He was quiet again. Then he turned toward her. He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. She smiled expectantly. "I think it will be time for us to leave soon," he said. "To explore the world a little bit. If you would like to."

"You're ready?"

"Yes. But if you are not, we will not go."

So much uncertainty. But since when had she played it safe? She thought of where she had been over a year ago, standing on a street corner in the cold, handing out flyers, trying to save that theater.

And she had saved it. She had done so much, seen so much, faced so much. Life had never been certain, and yet it had to be lived without fear.

She wrapped her arms tightly around him and whispered in his ear, "I'm ready."

* * *

 _Dear Nadir,_

 _Thank you so, so much. For helping me. For letting us stay here as long as we needed to. For giving him another chance. You'll never know what it all meant to me._

 _It was finally time for us to leave. Trust me when I say that we'll be okay. We're going to see some of the world and decide if we want to settle down somewhere. It will definitely be a strange new adventure, but I'm excited. One day, we'll see you again, and I'll tell you all about it. Maybe we'll come back to the cabin to recharge sometimes. If that's okay with you :)_

 _In the meantime, please enjoy your retirement. Don't worry about us. Relax and have fun. I asked Erik if there was anything he wanted to say to you. He said not to feel guilty about anything that happened in the past. And he said not to follow us around the globe because that would be annoying. Personally, I'd be okay with it. Haha. But I'm sure you have much better things to do._

 _Thank you again._

 _Love,_

 _Christine_

 **The End**


End file.
